A Train at Night

I like the train best at night.
I hide my face under the curtain
To foil the glare
From scattered reading lights
In an otherwise dark cabin, and
Press my cheek to the cold window.
All the world is in shadow;
The evergreen silhouettes
School the night in darkness.
I spy a planet, orange and unwavering
In the charcoal sky.
On a cloudy night, like this one,
The lighted blotches on the lid
Hint at cities nestled
In some hidden valley.
Wisps of red light fly by
At the crossings,
But there is no sign of life,
Other than the muffled snores
And creaks of a train at night.
I am a quiet voyeur
Sailing slowly by a slumbering wilderness;
Searching for searching eyes
That glimmer yellow in the moonlight.
Then, as the train pulls west around a bend,
I see it, a sparkling snake
Penetrating an abysmal horizon.
I am a wild thing
On a train at night.