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User Rating:
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6.2
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(23 votes)
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The railroad track is miles away,
And the day is loud with voices speaking,
Yet there isn't a train goes by all day
But I hear its whistle shrieking.
All night there isn't a train goes by,
Though the night is still for sleep and dreaming,
But I see its cinders red on the sky,
And hear its engine steaming.
My heart is warm with friends I make,
And better friends I'll not be knowing;
Yet there isn't a train I wouldn't take,
No matter where it's going.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
| Submitted Date |
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Monday, January 13, 2003 |
| Submitted Date |
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Thursday, May 05, 2011 |
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Read poems about / on: red, sleep, sky, travel, night, heart, dream, friend
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