Train Lights Poem by Leah Ayliffe
Train Lights
I read something today, if the train was coming, would you move?
It got me wondering how much you think about death.
See, you're a fighter. You fight for things.
You fight for the love you want, you fight for the life you want to live.
And I surrender.
I surrender every time.
I love to give way to let anyone else win.
But I wouldn't move out of the way.
I don't want to die,
but if I saw the lights approaching fast,
I'd stare back into the brightness, waiting, calm.
I wouldn't try harder to be here,
I'd be okay to end it all.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 9:06:22 PM # 1.0.0.1119
This poem recalls an experience years ago. In 1988 I attended an Alex Colville exhibition with a well-known Canadian novelist. While we were looking at 'Horse and Train' she asked me the somewhat-purile-but-loaded question, 'Would you want to be the horse or the train? ' I had the presence of mind to answer, 'Neither - I would want to be the painting.' In truth, simulations of the kind are revealing in heroic and mythic realms, but, I only note, not as a test of character.