Depot in a valley

from the platform call back the vanished from the staging area call back the generations
from the stout beams broad planks shingles sheaved with mold
the empty space where the 3:30 was canceled one Friday in June
recall the lost wanderers
at the lattice of mountains roads and rivers
from the space stripped of the ticket counter
declaim the past congregants

the patient beams hard-trod planks
where rawhide soles turned toward the Northern cauldron
where shingles rattled at casings designated for the grinding mills
tomorrows wrapped up in the padlocked shed
rust in the ditches
where scruffy painters tuck aspiring canvases to make studio rounds

axles chugged toward the summits
signals echoed in the valley

the beams still laugh
with their elevated view of parasoled cotton bustles long trunks alongside

the joists breathe
the joists ascend to the moldy rafters

the persistent clocks
never warned their minutes would turn to decades

praise the joists one more day
praise the singing thumping rattling ringing rails

This poem was published in issue 14 of Wild Roof Journal.

Andy Oram
October 25, 2020