He walks the ties where switches sleep
Coal dust settles on his boot heel deep
Reel cans rattle in his heavy coat
Fog swallows signals red and green glow
Ghost frames flicker in the yard tonight
Silver splices cut through wool blanket air
He threads the past through gate and frozen light
Memory projects on rusted rail steel there
Coffee thermos steams on crossover box
Grease stained pancake turner in his pants pocket
He checks the focus adjusts the parallax
Fog muffles whistle kills the locomotive rocket
Ghost frames flicker in the yard tonight
Silver splices cut through wool blanket air
He threads the past through gate and frozen light
Memory projects on rusted rail steel there
Splicing tape holds frames of derailed years
Emulsion cracks like ice on winter puddles
He loads the magazine calms his fears
Fog writes its script in soft and grey cuddles
Ghost frames flicker in the yard tonight
Silver splices cut through wool blanket air
He threads the past through gate and frozen light
Memory projects on rusted rail steel there
Dawn breaks slow over roundhouse rusted crown
Projector slows the last frame holds a freeze
He packs the reels shuts the heavy casing down
Fog lifts enough to show the ties and trees
Ghost frames flicker in the yard tonight
Silver splices cut through wool blanket air
He threads the past through gate and frozen light
Memory projects on rusted rail steel there
Ghost frames linger in the morning haze
One more showing before the end of days
Fog rolls slow on steel tonight
Projector hums in dim porch light
