The railroad track is miles away, <br /> And the day is loud with voices speaking, <br />Yet there isn't a train goes by all day <br /> But I hear its whistle shrieking. <br /> <br />All night there isn't a train goes by, <br /> Though the night is still for sleep and dreaming, <br />But I see its cinders red on the sky, <br /> And hear its engine steaming. <br /> <br />My heart is warm with friends I make, <br /> And better friends I'll not be knowing; <br />Yet there isn't a train I wouldn't take, <br /> No matter where it's going.<br /><br />Edna St. Vincent Millay<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/travel-2/
