Butler Pennsylvania 14


Room with Window Facing West


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

Wouldn't those sounds
remind me 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
and slur in mocking tones:
Some day, Litt'l Fellow,
some day you will know.



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