dVerse Poets Pub | OpenLinkNight
This poem was one of the first I wrote for dVerse
Open Link Night #409
When the Rails Were New
When the rails were new,
they cut the land like a prophecy,
iron laid over bones and prayers.
Ancestors stood in the dust,
watching the whistle split the sky,
naming what would be taken.
The train carried voices with it—
ghost-songs, drumbeats,
last breaths—
westward,
into forgetting.
Men chased distance,
not knowing
the dead were riding too,
fingers wrapped around memory.
Prisons rose where spirits lingered,
steel cages humming with old grief,
time circling instead of passing.
Still the whistle cried at dusk,
a call no soul could outrun,
pulling the living toward reckoning.
https://www.blenza.com/linkies/links.php?owner=dversepoets&postid=04Jun2026&meme=12507
With love
— Maggie The Afterlove Voice 💫
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