Passenger Station, Texas

It keeps its memories
of big band sounds and Texas swing,
excited children on their way to far-off
Dallas, trainloads of soldiers
leaving home or comng back
at end of World War Two.
Now forlorn, its windows vibrate
only to the passing freights,
its rooms lie empty save for
now and then a boy or two
entering on some dare.
Never having seen a huge black engine
full of noise and heat and steam
that made more timid kids
run back to their father's sides,
they have no frame of reference
to make the place more than just
some dusty wooden furnishings or
secret haunt for creatures of the night.
But then, imagination has a way
of making history seem real.
So on a quiet day, if you listen carefully,
you'll hear the sound of steam from up the track,
and if you watch with eyes that still believe,
you'll see the train come rumbling past,
filled with people smiling wide.
They're going home, you see, while
the rest of us have to wait awhile
there beside the track, shaded by
the station at the city's downtown edge.

Ralph Hausser, 2010-