Jake's Flea Market

i heard the horn blast and turned

saw the cyclops- eye headlight 
burn from the dark to the west

thought of the pacific
and of salmon

of b c 
and of tall trees on mountain slopes
floated through those wheat seas that flourished
on that monumental plain

harvests carried
eastward in a series of moments that passed
loudly unheard in the dark

moments that became
something from out of the province on the rails became
the passage of something from out of the country over the land became

the clatter of a union pacific locomotive
union pacific and soo line and louisiana midland
boxcars and hoppers and tankcars and flatcars 
through the canadian prairie night

i heard the clack of steel wheels on steel rails

i heard the tolling of a bell 

i heard a whistle

on a spiked down path i heard
those moments tick away

thought of the fisherman

thought of the lumberjack

thought of the farmer of grain

thought of how those moments bore
the labour of their hours away

toward the border and beyond
toward the sun rise while everybody slept