Poem for Thursday and Kirkland Mini Trains

The Railway Train
By Emily Dickinson

I like to see it lap the Miles —
And lick the Valleys up —
And stop to feed itself at Tanks —
And then — prodigious step

Around a Pile of Mountains —
And supercilious peer
In Shanties — by the sides of Roads —
And then a Quarry pare

To fit it's sides
And crawl between
Complaining all the while
In horrid - hooting stanza —
Then chase itself down Hill —

And neigh like Boanerges —
Then — prompter than a Star
Stop — docile and omnipotent
At its own stable door —

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I had a fairly quiet Thursday setting up a collapsible shelving unit and putting some toys on it, plus emptying the last box of Random Nonsense (action figures that had been on living room shelves, mini fairy lights that had been wrapped over bookcases) and setting up some lights on the deck around the sliding doors. The squirrels have already discovered the new bird feeder and angry red-winged blackbirds were landing on the lights to squawk their irritation. 

We walked to the beach in the late afternoon, had meatball subs for dinner, then I talked to my Thursday night chat group before we watched the finale of The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, which left a lot of things hanging but ended a central relationship on a positive note so that made me happy. Then we watched the first episode of The Night Agent, which is pretty good. From Eastside Trains in Kirkland, full of nostalgia from Thomas the Tank Engine to the Hogwarts Express: