Railway

Long before you see train

The tracks sing and tremble,

Long before you know direction

Train come from, a hum

Announces it soon arrive.

So we tend to drop on all fours

Even before we look left or right.

We skip the sleepers or walk

Along by balancing on a rail.

We talk about the capital

Where the train ends its run

From the interior stacked with

The outsized trunks of felled

Trees and open-topped cars of bauxite.

We always hide from it unsure

What the train will do if we

Stand next to the tracks.

It flattens our nails into knives,

It obliterates any traffic

Caught by it at crossroads,

It whistles a battle cry,

Steam from the engine a mood

Not to mess with or else.

Rails without beginning or end,

Twinned hopes always at your back,

Always up front signaling you on,

Double oxen, hoof stomp, temper

Tantrum, stampede, clatter

Matter, head splitter, hear us,

Stooped with an ear to the line—   

greenheart, mora, baromalli,

purple heart, crabwood,

kabakalli, womara.