On an Amtrak Train to Utica - Poem (from "Four Folded Corners)

Facing south
our bodies pulled northward
the past enlarges

passed trees join more trees
joining more trees
expanding tribes of leaf-tops
flaming
or glowing gold

as we slide alongside the silver, rippling river
bark, stone, sun, clouds

a stubby, railway bridge
a boat,
its sails, tall and starched,
sits motionless
as if painted

moving pictures --
what is to come
passes in time
gone from view too soon.

By Mary E. Lohan

Note: About Utica