Rare mid-winter sun-drenched warmth swirls <br />Within my afternoon, a moving song <br /> <br />Propelled along with achy, old knees <br />And a smiling spirit, freed at the last <br /> <br />From the confines of a torturous cold <br />The passageway, long sojourned by many <br /> <br />Re-gifted fortitude that takes me far <br />Not unlike turn of century citizens <br /> <br />Westward bound half –encased in past <br />Rural-ity and a delightful newness <br /> <br />Rumbling the length of rails, while young cardinals <br />Peak out from slim branches dappled in buds <br /> <br />Conveyances that tunnel under highways <br />Unsealing tiny streams of yesterday <br /> <br />March 9,2009 <br />Cumberland Gap Tunnel<br /><br />Debora Short<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/old-rails-2/
