Coal Train

The coal train stalls,
It stops,
And pockmarked trucks,
Stretched beyond sight,
Blackened all,
Bang and squeal and bang,
A vast complaint of coal,
Eastbound to feed
Insistent appetites,
Furnaces that gobble whole-
Reeling out steel,
Jolting impulses and
Fabricated need.
East, towards the moon,
That limping, leaves us.
Now the engine roars,
And gaining speed,
Begins a trembling conga
Down the line,
The hidden seam,
Hacked from the earth,
Dull in the sunlight,

Mortuary silent,
Is bound for the sky.