The Lonesome Whoo Poem by L MILTON HANKINS

Somewhere in the distant past I hear
The lonesome whoo at an unmarked crossing
Where we once lived, where the behemoths
Would rattle our windows and make us think
We were having an earthquake,
Until we got used to the rumble and clacking
And paid no attention to the interruption.
I recall once I was standing with a plumber
Who was repairing a faulty bathroom sink
And when the room began to sway I said,
"Those damned trains" and I went to look
But there was no train! So, we rushed out,
And water was sloshing in the garden pond
And, sure enough, we were having a quake.
The evening news mentioned the epicenter
Several hundred miles away in another town
Where we once lived, where the behemoths
Would rattle our windows and make us think
We were having an earthquake.