moths are sweepin' my eyes
and polishing my glasses.
the streetlights have become
pale and watery.
i've never seen 'em shine green before.
must be my eyes.
swimmin' in white wine.
downtown it's quiet.
like a widow's den.
dusty yet clean.
buildings covered in sheets.
rooms that are never used.
near 10th street i watched the train pass.
i got out of my car and stood right there next to the tracks and let the wind
snag my scarf.
the train was a long one, a standard freight train,
and i waited until the entire thing passed.
it sounded so good.
loud enough to drown my concerns.
when i was a kid i used to wave to the man working
on the the caboose
and he always waved back.
tonight, i stood by the tracks and waited for the caboose.
but it never came.
the last car was just a brown Santa Fe box car.
just the standard deal.
for some reason,
i haven't seen a caboose in years.