Log Cabin Chronicles


Crossing Point

eat the rats
that eat the ties
on the track.
Seven nights ago
some boys from town
stole the crossing gate.
It was there for the taking. For the line lies forgotten
and the freight train's gone.

This poem is from Disco Fries/Poutine Amalgam: Pieces Relating to Northern New England and Atlantic Canada and to Various Inhabitants Thereof. Nathaniel Rounds writes in Nova Scotia.

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Copyright © 2007 Nathaniel S. Rounds