Emily said it licked the valleys up
But in my case it blazed across the plains
Straight as a line and flat as a table
Charging into town seven times a day.
I watched it from the elevator, gray,
Towering over the flat land. Stabled
By the prairie wind and rain it remains
Coursing there as I lean over my cup.
I can still hear the loud rhythmic clacking
Of hundreds of brown wheels on silver rails
Crossing on the backs of tarred ties tracking
From town to town through sultry summer gales.
Rusty mustard cars saddled with grain
Galloping steadily over the plains.