Ghost riders no longer hover.
Train tracks dismantled long ago
phantom posts reveal their route.
I did not mind their crossing,
if they could have glided silently
like parrot fish within my realms
or shape shifter clouds above.
It was the daily clatter,
metal wheels on transom
wide-open window chatter
I much prefer the quiet.
Hikers who gaze,
mesmerized by lapping waters,
sun glisten upon my face.
pelt rain upon my scenic demeanor.
Rarer still, they apologize
reflecting rainbow arcs in smiles.
Posted for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets where today Mish asks us to “give nature a voice.” Photo from Bermuda — along the Old Railway Trail. The Bermuda Railway operated from October 1931 until May, 1948. The hiking trail stops and starts on various parts of the islands that make up Bermuda — with ruins of stations, trestles, and roadcuts. Pub opens at 3 PM Boston time. Stop on by!