though my mother swore
every day it rained

forward we went
on a wet day and the steam railway

toward clouds
the black eyed driver fed the red-hot stove

the old quarry train climbing
through forests and o'er rivers

the fork in the track
behind us

the train chugged into the station
my mother waving

at flies
her hair ruined

we spent the day in the clouds
watching smoke rise and hiding from the devil