BACK ON TRACK

by Cynthia Patton, Livermore Poet Laureate
October 2018

It must have seemed an unlikely spot in 1892,
after the lumbering stretch of Central Valley
and the Altamont's barren slopes. But there
it lay: Livermore, nestled in its golden valley,
cattle dozing in dappled shade. Neat rows
of Victorian homes and vineyards
sprawled over tawny hillsides - the fruit
of the western frontier, now attainable by train.

In the heart of town, a sunny station greeted
travelers with its beautiful blue-framed door.
It served four generations, survived two
world wars, until engines gave way to autos.
An aging landmark, bereft of the tracks
that had given it purpose. If it could
would it speak of steam's mighty thunder
or the glamour of the California Zephyr?

Did it ache when trains traced different paths,
slipped past in the dark, leaving only echoes?
For decades the depot languished. Restaurant,
offices, real estate. Then, after 125 years,
it inched through the night to a new home
on the tracks. Did its windowless eyes leak
tears when it again felt the hum of the rails?
Now journeys begin and end once more ...

... within its sheltered embrace. Commuter trains
speed past as millennials sip soy lattes, surf
the internet on devices that fit into a backpack
or pocket. Here the past resides comfortably
with the future, reminding us we are resilient.
We are free to constantly change and evolve.
Welcome back, yellow depot,
to the singing rails that give you life.