The Train

By Joseph McGowan

It’s Saturday morning and I know what that means,
Because all week they’ve been riding the train in their dreams.
Each child’s been the conductor and the engineer
And they’ve pulled the train’s whistle for all to hear.
I’ll dust off her sleek engine, and polish the chrome
For right about now, they’ll be leaving home.

The children will be coming to ride, with anticipation
The conductor yells, “All aboard!” and their faces light up as we pull out of the station.
They wave good-bye as if on a journey that will never end
And I’ll blow the whistle for them as we round the first bend.

We’ll go by the pond and then by the zoo
And I’ll tell the park’s story as you take in the view.
One the way back to the station we pass a crossing gate,
Ringing bells and flashing lights signal the people to wait.

We’ll pass through a tunnel that’s so long and so dark
And if you listen carefully you can hear a coyote bark.

As the train shuffles slowly into the station, clickity clack,
It’s the end of the line, but I know they’ll be coming back.

See, the train is for everyone, both young and old.
It’s magic gives them good memories, or so I’m told.
Another beautiful Saturday morning for me and for you.
Time once again to be the engineer, and make all dreams come true.