train wreck

can't change course and can't slow down
progression towards the inevitable
   marked by signs
   screaming "bridge out ahead"
but the track keeps going
   and so do i
while some demented engineer shovels coal
   faster and faster.
   (should've fired him years ago.)

the fall.

the crash.

and you're calling me

hopes, desires, dreams scattered in the snow
   like so many passengers
   broken or burning or both.

stumble to my feet,
   bleeding but breathing
   blinded by smoke
   feeling my way towards light

baggage stored away
   but not thrown away
   scattered like landmines amid the debris
   trips me, brings me to my knees

and you're calling me.

and i know, if i follow the sound of your voice,
i won't trip again
   (no more blood in the snow)
i'll escape the wreckage
   (no more smoke in my eyes)
i'll be warm, and safe
   (no more wolves howling over freezing winds)

but the burning debris is also warm
if i stop
   just this once
   just for a moment
   just a step out of the way
i'll be warm
i can salvage something
   some of that baggage
   carry it with me

and you're calling me.
   fainter now
   i've stopped listening
   i hear movement
i can save something
   i'll find you later
   i have a train to repair