Poem From the End of the Era of Steam

From David P. Morgan's Trains Magazine in February 1963, a poem from what was the already fading era of steam by William F. Bradbury, titled...

The Express Passes

The original as it appeared in Trains

Dim in the distance a waver of light,
A murmur, a hum, a confusion of sound,
The shriek of a whistle far-piercing the night,
An electrical throbbing and thrill in the ground;

A widening glare o'er the glittering snow,
The fire from a flaming red orb of an eye,
A roaring and rumbling that gather and grow,
A vomit of rolling black smoke to the sky;

A singing of steel, and a crashing of crank,
A hissing of steam shot out in a blast,
A whistle's hoarse scream, and the iron's harsh clank,
And the huge, swaying monster goes thundering past!

A swirling of snow in a fine, stinging spray,
A buzzing of rails, growing fainter -- now gone,
The clang of a bell dying quickly away
A glimmer of light, and the train rushes on.

                                              -- William F. Bradbury

What a vivid picture! Whether through the mountains or rolling out on the plains, this prose is a clear reminder that such beasts roamed the rails of Colorado and the nation in ages past.⚒