David Mason Hill
Текст песни The Train

Tonite, the train whistle's blowing outside somewhere down the line, and its echo is somehow finding my open window. i know the tracks around here, and this one sounds a bit away to the west. the echo is a tricky thing, though, and if i didn't know the track and where the train typically blows its whistle, i'd likely think it much farther south. as it is, the whistle reminds me of my grandmother's house in cibolo, before she got married in '80 and moved to wallis, near houston. in the summertime, i'd often stay there with her. at night, the light from the fluorescent security light in her backyard would stream in through the blinds, illuminating the living room with this strange glow that always made me a bit sad and lonely, the way only fluorescent lights can. the room, too, dwarfed me, with it being completely open to the kitchen and the long custom dining table that would seat sixteen, at least. so here is where i'd sleep, as clocks ticked and the refrigerator hummed, and as dogs barked in the distance ~ being in the country with few neighbors, but neighbors nonetheless, close enough to hear when the slightest disturbance set off these protectors of the rural. once familiarity tuned out the noises inside, though, and if the dogs were at rest, the silence really could be deafening, as if cotton filled my ears the harder i tried to listen. even planes skipped this space, with little reason for flight paths to cross it. so instead of comforting noises like the highway drone that turns into the ocean as you dream, this silence compounded my loneliness. luckily, a train would pass every now and again, and on cooler evenings with the windows open, i could hear it as it rumbled along the tracks just a few miles away. there are two crossings from the house, one a few miles east, where my window pointed, and the other just a couple miles west. westbound trains passing in the dark would blow their horns at that eastern crossing, and i could just barely make it out, being so distant. but then the faint rumbling of the train would ease into my ears, giving me company for a few miles of track. when i finally heard the next whistle blow, i knew the train would soon fade until the next one came through. by that time, though, i would be fast asleep, the time between them simply too long for my enduring of the silence, instead opting for the comfort of, hopefully, the sweet dreams promised by my grandmother and her goodnite kiss.

(available at /2011/09/23/the-train/)