The Sound of a Train

The sound of a train is true,
the way it rings
in still air
as it curves
around a rock
face.

Its wind pushes
against me
as it scrabbles
to get by,
its wheels like claws
against the ground.

And in the distance,
a smoke trail
reveals where it's been,
the long drawn our whistle
calling out its destination,

When the mounties
told me I needed a permit
to meet the train at the station
even if it was to say goodbye
to fellow Japanese,
I went to the bend in the river
and waved to them
as the sound of the train
fades into obscure
memory.

For Tsunisuke Okimoto, 1903-1987
Greenwood, BC, 1942-1987

- from Ten Thousand Views of Rain. (2001). Thistledown Press.