There's a train whistle wailing out there somewhere in the distance, like the echoes of the day that have just slipped below the horizon. It's calling out to everyone who's ever thought of something more than the sterile suburbs that lend no hand to minds inclined to look beyond the surface. It's calling out with the wisdom of Boston and the spontenaity of New Orleans and the voices of a million other cities that have so much to say if someone just listens. And the longing is still there as the train continues its trek on toward the living nighttime and I stay here with my million unwanted responsibilities that haul the soul down from the inside.
Oh wow...I have a train that goes by my house, and I could set a clock to it's whistle. For some reason, that whistle has always stirred feelings in me...and it seems as though you've written them down. Thank you for posting this.