The train is moving slowly down the tracks
And will not pick up speed. Instead, it coasts
Seeming to let its hair down and relax
Ignoring or not seeing mileposts
That indicate the creep of onward flow
Encouraging a greater turn of speed.
The rails are smooth, and yet it will not go,
Despite the passengers implicit need
To reach their destinations. It will glide
At its own pace, concerned with nothing more
Than its inanimate desires. Ride
At your own risk; it is a quiet tour
And if you wait, it may give benefits.
Regardless of the truth of that, it sits.
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