Starts low, like some strange language out of rhyme.
A sensation impossible to feel.
The mind wonders if that faintest sound is real.
Whistle blows, yet still so far away I’m
Unsure, perhaps something carried on the wind.
There it is again! Closer. Moments bend,
Surreal, silence screams in a loop of time.
My breath is labored and my sense seems ill.
Louder now, just off the horizon edge,
Out of sight. My heart stops and starts between
Each ebb and flow of warning blast unseen.
I have to look, transfixed on panic ledge!
Nothing can stop it now so I stand calm,
Deafening wheels invoke an unsung psalm.