Poetry, Grades 10-12: Third Place

Caboose— Madalina Kelner

It’s been three weeks since I’ve seen you last
though it feels like years
miles ahead of the tracks
I love watching your face emerge from the steam
hearing you panting as if you were right alongside me, penetrating all the carts in between, into my lonely panels
I long for a wind on this laddered iron path to catch sight of your beauty once again.
On the last swoop, I missed you in the muddled air and pouring rain of the monsoons.
The peacocks you suggested I watch, no longer interest me
at sunset I would watch them, dancing about, showering their lover in color, now they’re a bore
for a while, It would take my mind to a better place where I was happy being last
I, who once glowed bright red of lust, have been tainted by rust
peeling paint in the corners
and your ebony sheen sparkles ahead just as the day I first saw you
With time on my rails, I turned to anything you know
but even now  
I no longer wish to seek the best colors in the sea or sarees that pass me.
the wild colors distract my brain from remembering the details of your silhouette
I’m eager being closer to where you were in the past
knowing your wheels were here, just a mile back
I do love you but I wonder if I should do this to myself
chasing what I cannot because the blockade in between
Maybe I should just pull the pin
just sit here, take on a dare and wait for the next dame to come up crashing into my rear
I would skid alongside her, like a parasite hoping I might be close enough
for just a few seconds to express my repressed loving
if she chose to love me back, I wouldn’t know
I will already be scattered along the path
into useless red stained panels left on the gravel
It’s late, and I again, have allowed the dangerous thoughts to seep into my mind
Sitting in front of me
leaving me life-threatening options.
I look to the sky and for once I feel something
the element that manifest my glass heart
the sand you left behind grinds beneath my car
my fluctuating heartbeat with its soothe swaying, is hushed
I am rocked by the tiny quartz parcels you left behind
I have made up my mind
Please disregard all lost hopes I have written in the past
I am here for you to be dragged until dust
I wouldn’t want anything else ending your procession
I am yours and you are mine
my beautiful
Steam Engine