Nevada Nocturne

I've been working on a poem for the past two evenings. I change it whenever I pull it up on my computer.


Nevada Nocturne ©

In Gerlach , Nevada,
In the deep September night,
A slide whistle player tooted along the street
A cheerful sound, whistling in the dark.

Somewhat later, the long freight,
Having crossed the Black Rock Desert,
Raced through, passing the old water tower.
And shaking the single-wide where I slept.

I have always known
Trains racing through the night
Trains running west
Trains vibrating sound, like a tornado.

And I slept again.

Still later, but before dawn
In the hills beyond Gerlach,
The coyotes howled
A lonesome plaintive sound,

And I slept again
Into the September morn,
In Gerlach, Nevada
Soundlessly.