Black steam churns and spits
From every crevice of the old maid
Her body worn with travel
Soaked with time and stories to tell

She coughs with every breath
Attempting to please the crowd
Those who decry her age
Love her no matter what

Each chug makes her believe
She can, she can, she can
She thinks she can and she will
Fly down the rails yet again

—Victoria Emmons ©2015