Irascible Whistle Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Rushing down the tracks and into mountains, hearing that
irascible whistle blowing its lonesome tones for everyone
to hear.

Taking sorrow and sadness into the atmosphere where it can
be heard and shared across the nation, slipping down the
aisle, people dancing to melodies that energize.

Not letting go of hearts and minds, rhythms continue call-
ing to interior beings, wanting to share every ounce of
sorrow that falls in and out of tears.

Touching the souls of all who come to edges of this life,
ready to make that final leap of faith into death's wait-
ing arms.