Distant drums

With feathers of iron and a locomotive swoop,
The whistle of a siren and a mighty war whoop
Dust of rust, west or bust
Wagon wheel, a scalp to peel
Sea of grass a mountain pass
Stones of bones trail of crumbs
Footprints, embossed in frost distant drums

Reviews

[Marie]

On reading your beautiful poem I was reminded some of the movies I watched at the cinema growing up of the old steam train and its mighty whistle as it sped down the track to its destination. It also brings to mind the western movies with Cowboys and Indians. I always wondered how the Cavalry always came on time to save those who were being attacked by the Indians and of course, we didn't realise as small children that the Indian people were only protecting their land which was being taken over by the Cowboys. The greed for land continues to this day and the world has never been at a greater risk of being wiped off the planet now. No longer guns or bows and arrows, nuclear missiles these days for mass death and destruction. So sorry Soren, please forgive me, I got a bit carried away. I like your poem very much and you have painted many different scenes for your reader in this wondrous succinct gem. Lovely work! Thank you for sharing, Soren...

[Soren]

Thank you, Marie. You are so right. This poem can well be extended beyond its time limits and the metaphor is intended to do so. I appreciate your interpretation and thank you for taking the time to understand.