The Iron Road
filled the world
with thunder.
Timber cut
from continental
forests fuelled
men and pistons.
Metal shone
with power.

In Railtown, now
red oxide holds
the sleeping rails

Somewhere
between earth and fire
its glow coats
plates, bolts, boilers.
Capped old men,
slim with age
and dreams,
take their time
remaining
to keep in steam
a chosen master
of the race
to cross from
coast to coast
and halve the size
of their United States.

Showered sparks
cascade from
polished tubes;
a blacksmith
hammers steel back
into shape and fitness;
oil shines
on con rods,
valves and cylinders;
youth gleams
in eyes, on lips.