Hiding Places

I walk this stretch
Most mornings
The tall grass
Still glistening with dew
The tracks are wet
As straight as they are laid
Through foggy mists
Soft and cold
Steel and coal
I have not seen this train
Too far away to glimpse
The whistle lingers
How I wish to ride these tracks
And start at the bridge
The same as it had been
The piers as lonely as I had been
Water circling concrete bases
A place I went to every day
Because this was my place
One thing I could not be denied
The only place I could hide