A Trace of Track

A Trace of Track
Christopher Bogart

There always seems to be
a trace of track that runs
deep in the back of my mind.

On past strolls,
I have trod dry grass,
nudged the soil,
to uncover their linear toil.

Their dull steel rails,
their worn wooden crossbars
leave tracks through my thoughts
traces through my dreams.

It seems I always find
myself in the return
to mine the dry ground,
to found in shadow,
the possibility of pattern,
of thought,
of purpose,
in those same linear dreams,
or so it seems.