Away off in the distance,
I hear that whistle blow,
It is such a haunting sound,
Makes me think of long ago.
When I was just a little boy,
I used to listen too,
That soulful sounding whistle,
When a train was coming through.
I imagined all the travelers,
And wondered where they were going,
When off in the distance,
I heard that whistle blowing.
I could imagine waving at,
The engineer as he passed,
And he would wave back,
With a whistle blast.
I would feel a sadness,
As they disappeared down the track,
And I would alway wonder,
If they were coming back.
Sometimes I still hear,
That really lonesome sound,
As it echoes at the crossroads,
That a train is coming down.
By
Richard Netherland Cook
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem