This morning, first thing, I watched two trains before I did anything else.
One of them was new, from Union Pacific, advertising that they were
and the other was old
a mix of rail lines and rust spots
covered in lettering from up and down the coast
And many I couldn't read
encoded in the aesthetic
The Pigeons were also watching the trains go by
from their linear perch atop the lights
like moss on the oaks of the Oregon woods
but moss that moves in fluttering shudders
everytime a truck goes under.