"The Bugle"

Chandler Ryd

i hear the distant bugle blows,

i can’t escape the echoing call and i can’t remember

the tunnel the train comes nor the home the train goes.

i feel, but i still move through the viscous air

that clogs my judgement.

trust your heart, my mother once said.

from my chest the rope then led,

tugging me to the station.

Rumble thundered through my feet,

advancing under the engine’s beat.

The bugle called me forth--

calling me, calling for me now.

the tug i felt i can’t explain,

yet then I board that bugle train.

I hear the distant bugle blows.

Her name is Fate, some say,

travelling a wrought-iron track.

But I hear the nearing bugle, feel the rumbling train.

Fate is coming back.

I take my steps and guide my eyes.

I climb the train because here I rise.

I map my track with faith, mind, and heart.

And we are wed ‘till death due us part.

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