tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24228581.post3058313221850996376..comments2023-06-03T06:57:28.258-07:00Comments on Scenes From A Slowmoving Train: Journey by TrainAnnie Jeffrieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15415548089882625246noreply@blogger.comBlogger6125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24228581.post-87723110871061376762013-04-30T12:40:32.628-07:002013-04-30T12:40:32.628-07:00What a marvelous poem. I like Mae Sarton's wr...What a marvelous poem. I like Mae Sarton's writing but this one is new to me. I too like train travel and have taken the train from CA to Oregon and back many times, most recently two years ago. I checked the currant prices and (with a sleeper) they were much too high for my pocket book this year.<br /><br />DarlaDarlahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02729017606957829830noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24228581.post-23099015122916283692013-04-28T10:41:05.968-07:002013-04-28T10:41:05.968-07:00My maternal grandpa was a train man. He worked for...My maternal grandpa was a train man. He worked for the Wabash Railroad but I never took a train trip! What wonderful memories you have of yours. And the poem is perfect. Gemma is a gem!Janethttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10084823218319628822noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24228581.post-42920762033163235712013-04-28T06:53:54.930-07:002013-04-28T06:53:54.930-07:00I love riding on trains, but have never gone more ...I love riding on trains, but have never gone more than four hours. The whole idea of the sleeping berth is so romantic, so North by Northwest. Sigh. Wonder if that will ever happen for me; there are precious few trains like that left!Jeaniehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17482528482559445943noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24228581.post-22744493424500244992013-04-27T23:34:38.677-07:002013-04-27T23:34:38.677-07:00We live between two sets of tracks and in the midd...We live between two sets of tracks and in the middle of the night I sometimes awaken and hear one passing. The whistle is mournful, that's true, and the click clack of the wheels is more a whosh by the time the sound arrives at my bedroom window. I love to lay there and listen trying to figure out if it is a train east of me or west of me.Annie Jeffrieshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15415548089882625246noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24228581.post-573509472683016212013-04-27T22:03:47.115-07:002013-04-27T22:03:47.115-07:00This is a wonderful poem!! I have ridden on a trai...This is a wonderful poem!! I have ridden on a train one time, my grandmother was so excited and had wanted me to for years. I find trains to be so melancholy and iconic. The whistle of a passing train is especially mournful. When I was a girl my favorite uncle worked on a train, and whenever one passed the house, my mom would tell me to run outside and wave to it, maybe uncle Al was on it! Such excitement. Now we can hear the train whistle from our house, every night at 11:00 and 2:30 A.M. and I think of those balmy summer nights when I was a child and would run outside to wave to my uncle on the caboose. He died a very young man leaving three little children. My life continues to journey on with the trains, losing more people at each stop.Ginny Hartzlerhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09329131153403895625noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24228581.post-72571944155245534222013-04-27T12:35:35.090-07:002013-04-27T12:35:35.090-07:00My dad worked for the RR. I rode the train by myse...My dad worked for the RR. I rode the train by myself from Flagstaff Az. to grammas house in Albuquerque NM when I was 10 y/o. <br />My dad asked the conductors to watch out for me. <br />I pretended to be a grown up.lol<br />Glad you enjoyed the poem.gmahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04879507440579599549noreply@blogger.com