Train 11 Leaving Portland

Train 11 Leaving Portland

Southbound
To LA
Passing rows of tents, graffiti,
Trash and litter where flowers and grass once lined the way
Broken glass, crushed cans and throwaway furniture that once improved a life
Personal belongings, bikes strewn about, an existence so foreign to most
A few men wandered about, others squatted by a firepit
I expected the lost men, but I was wrong,
I found women too, young and not so old - “why?” and “how?” I ask.

The train kept moving, the ringing of the crossing bells and lights reminding me of Christmas
Now past buildings, lots filled with old cars, barrels, broken stuff
Strewn about, disorganized to most, a rusty child’s bike caught my eye, made my heart ache
Old, fading, caught in time
Juxtaposed with the Oregonian forests outlining the horizon in the background
“Why?”
Why trespass nature and abuse yourself?
Why can’t you, why can’t we live in harmony and leave a place better than we find it?
Both sides along these tracks are lined with stories begging to be told.

Too late, I blinked, I didn’t catch it all
Now, already there’s greenery at the water’s edge of the river that meanders along our way
Small communities with proper yards, with property lines defined pop up
Part of America’s small towns that I had heard and read about
Here they are the un-city dwellers, the not-so up and coming ones,
The ones with a barn and tractor, chicken coops, horses and cows,
Here live men and women who find their way into the local coffee shops or corner markets,
Those who know each other by first name
Those not on the covers of magazines or on the front pages of tabloids or the internet

Then, somehow I caught her at the right distance in the middle of her yard
Near the frontage road that parallels the railroad track
A white woman dressed in black shorts, black t-shirt and in sandals
Waving hello or bon voyage
At the conductor? Or just anyone to connect with, see if someone waves back?
So I did. I waved back, reached out
At the lonely figure standing there, in the center of her yard, her world
I caught just a glimmer of her smile and smiled back
As the air horn sounded twice, red lights blinked, crossing bells rang: Just passing through