Abandoned Rails - Randall Stephens

Abandoned rails, forgotten trails, in secret places hide.
Ghosts of the past, are all that last, where thousands used to ride.
The lonesome mourns, of distant horns, still haunt the hills and vales.
The sweet refrains, of long lost trains, still drift upon the rails.
Wtih grace and ease, they chased the breeze, beneath a big blue sky.
Through valleys grand, green forest land, and mountain ranges high.
Through canyons deep, on ridges steep, around the curves and bends.
Past farms and towns, up hill and down, and on like rushing winds.
Through tunnels long, on trestles strong, above the creeks and streams.
Through night and day, they made their way, atop the iron beams.
Like restless winds, that wander in, their spirit still remains.
And dreams still flow, from long ago, when travel was by train.
That wonderous thrill, is with me still, of vista domes on high.
And sitting there, with wide eyed stare, as scenes went rolling by.
But time moves on, those trains are gone, just memories are left.
Of journeys grand, across the land, on now abandoned rails.

This is a poem for my long time subscriber Gwen, whose father worked on the Southern Pacific RR. The main website that the photo's were taken from is Greg Harrisons excellent www.abandonedrails.com

Category:

Autos & Vehicles

Tags:

• Abandoned
• rails
• railroads
• poem
• randall
• stephens
• poet
• poetry

[LostOzarkRambler]

Very nice. In a sad sort of way.

[Amiduffer]

@LostOzarkRambler I hope I did Mr. Stephens poetry justice. I had a pretty strong reaction when first reading it.

[salemcripple]

wow. that was amazing! loved the pics too. Faved+thumbs up (should still be five stars, but whatever)

[Amiduffer]

@salemcripple Thanks for the complement.

[GP9railfan]

Great job Drew.

Abandoned rails = Abandoned economy.

[Amiduffer]

@GP9railfan Sadly true. Regressive economics.

[Amiduffer]

Thanks Gwen. Your comment was almost poetic itself.

[Amiduffer]

Thank you!

[ockteby]

I love this poem, Drew.

Frank

[GwenAYF]

Stephens would be proud. Very appropriate photos and your, typical, sensitive reading.

For me, it was the smell through the dining room window on hot Texas nights, an occasional breeze stirred the curtains, and the doppleing of the train whistle. There was no highway noise; then the trains, Sometimes they awakened me, but I learned to enjoy the smell, sounds and the regularity of the wheels on the tracks. The best nights of a toddler's life.