Night Journey

Open House (1941)

Now as the train bears west,Its rhythm rocks the earth,And from my Pullman berthI stare into the nightWhile others take their rest.Bridges of iron lace,A suddenness of trees,A lap of mountain mistAll cross my line of sight,Then a bleak wasted place,And a lake below my knees.Full on my neck I feelThe straining at a curve;My muscles move with steel,I wake in every nerve.I watch a beacon swingFrom dark to blazing bright;We thunder through ravinesAnd gullies washed with light.Beyond the mountain passMist deepens on the pane;We rush into a rainThat rattles double glass.Wheels shake the roadbed stone,The pistons jerk and shove,I stay up half the nightTo see the land I love.

Open House (1941)