Butler Pennsylvania 14


Room with Window Facing West


If only I could lie in that bed again
late on winter nights and listen
wouldn't I hear the steam engines
running along the creek
out beyond the hill
or the shifting freight cars
in the yards under the bridge?

Wouldn't those sounds
remind me of how I would lie there
on summer nights in sheets tangled
asking my sleepless self
what "Chicago" meant,
that haunting word heard
in whispers spoken
from tongues of boys
I thought were friends
who as of late
would toss their heads back
to slur at me in mocking tones:
Some day, when you grow up,
[and that will take long]
some day you will know.