i can hear the train

i'll hear the whistle blow as the train crosses the tracks, on its way to someplace.
i'll remember my first home on the farm, above the line
and through the blue ridge.
i can hear the train passing, its weight subtly echoing
and quaking the ground,
like an old friend come and gone:
my earliest memory leaving a smile on my face.
i'll be gingerly awoken in the night,
as it passes again, before dozing once more.
i can hear the train laborously barreling,
and its prescence makes me strong
to think of where i started and what i've become.
i'll awaken, smile, and sleep again.