Separate World Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Train coming around the tracks, not slowing down for even
a moment, loving the way this spirit pulls it constantly
into realms of fantasy.

When the whistle blows though, intellect finds it to be
very comforting and letting it have free rein, nothing
like rapid tempos that keep this being moving freely.

Entering spaces of spheres that energize, tantalize and
tempt this mind in a separate world from the one this poet
is now living in.

Catching hold of every note and tone as its pulled upon the
tracks, while the whistle continues to blow, warning every-
one to stay out of the way.