Trains chug, tug and roll
Over tracks glistening
And ballast strong.
Bucolic scenes rush past-
Painting windows with colours –
Vivid and captivating.
With little warning,
The painting disappears
Into a darkness, black as void.
Have eyes failed, sight robbed of?
Did the Sun die, taking light with it?
Did the world end?
But the faint murmur of the engine
The periodic embrace of track and wheel
The clinks and the clanks of the machine
They go on, not missing rhythm.
As sudden as it went,
Light floods through the windows
As if an invisible dam gave way.
Sight is restored.