for 23 JUL 05: SNAILS ON RAILS (a poem)
Hear the whistle tooter make his warning noise.
If you are a driver, sometimes it annoys.
It comes from the freight train, rolling down the track.
For those in a hurry, it could set them back.
Freight trains block the roadway several times a day.
People on Tenth Avenue look for other ways.
Then the whistle tooter, closer his sound draws.
Going toward the center where they write city laws -
Traveling on the Parkway, you must stop and pause.
Will it be a small train - only a few cars?
Will it be a long one, blocking us for hours?
I could race the freight train, down Ninth Street downtown -
But when we reached Front Avenue, I'd have to back down.
Some fear that ol' freight train downtown could cause harm.
People seeking terror could spark great alarm.
But those who see a small town say it shows our charm --
And after all, another train crosses Woodruff Farm.
Mister Whistle Tooter, when will you go away?
Go toot on Buena Vista Road, and block them half the day!
So listen for the tooting, should you come to town.
You might find trains will stop you, with cars of rusty brown.
To go around the problem, a tunnel's on 11th.
But still we long for others - like on Avenue Seventh.
Or park your car on Veterans, and watch the line go by.
This isn't coastal Brunswick, with bridges in the sky.
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© 2003-05 Richard Burkard, All Rights Reserved.