Aching Junction


A train eases slowly into the junction
Its creaking wheels screech along the tracks
The doors open
No one exits
No one enters
A lone janitor watches over the weeping way-station
The train screams its agony
In its sad, lonely fury it wails
It lurches slightly and angrily slams
The doors on its way out
Leaving the aching junction

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This Poems Story

My high school creative writing teacher, Guy Ames, would inspire us with a word or a phrase each day which we would put to use in our poetry, song writing, or whatever we may have been working on at the time. This poem is the product of but one of these exercises from a sanctuary of some of the most creative minds I have ever known.