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I dreamt of a train ride through the country,

on a hazy day with musty air.

 

The passenger train swayed as we got under way.

An old coach with a glossy white ceiling and pastel green interior.

How many times has her décor been restored?

 

My family seated around me, giving warmth on an early October afternoon.

 

Hillsides burst in orange, yellow, green, and red, as we sped down the rail.

We raised some windows to breathe in the Green Mountain air.

 

I snapped photos as fast as the shutter speed would allow,

Trying not to sacrifice the splendid light.

A tricky feat for this amateur camera wielder.

 

The sky was clearing and so was my mood.

 

The ole girl’s whistle blared from time to time as she crossed old farm roads.

Those cattle kept on chewing as the green splendor sped by.

 

Rolling on a trestle, some hundred feet up,

I pondered at the small village below.

Does this beautiful landscape appear the same to them?

 

Those waving hands bring joy to my heart, and I return the gesture with a grin.

 

We made it halfway and the engines switches roles.

Front is now back, so my seat gets flipped.

 

A young white birch, standing sovereign on a bed of fallen leaves,

Catches my full attention on the homecoming.

An antique Ford with Halloween skeleton sitting in back gives chase to the train, and I chuckle.

 

I honor these folks who let their light shine forth for the world to see.

 

No one is bored of the scenery viewed in reverse.

The air is now warmer, and we see things anew.

 

It’s time for making funny faces as we pose for the camera,

Recording our family fun time, silly as it may be,

Choosing to be merry as the wheels grind to a stop.

 

This isn’t a dream unless I want it to be, so I choose this reality.