Sun Coyote's photostream  

I've seen that train before
peeling along the line of the horizon
cabooses flashing blue, red, red, blue, green, white
where I stopped to get a picture of the faded
Picacho Peak motel sign.
When the wind whipped dust devils into a frenzy
and the sun shone so hot
it was a warm hand on my arm.

When I came so close to filling up on hope
at an empty gas station
with my camera in my hand
knowing that all that was expected
would take seed, grow, flower and unfold
in a single hour on the car ride home.
When my heart took off chasing the train
on some long haul to Idaho.

And I missed the exit for Sunshine Road
but I didn't turn around or try to go
and came back home alone
Because I know now, I've seen that train before.