Analysis of Train 11 Leaving Portland
Gregory Baranoff 1951 (Shanghai)
Train 11 Leaving Portland
Southbound
To LA
Passing rows of tents, graffiti,
Trash and litter where flowers and grass once lined the way
Broken glass, crushed cans and throwaway furniture that once improved a life
Personal belongings, bikes strewn about, an existence so foreign to most
A few men wandered about, others squatted by a firepit
I expected the lost men, but I was wrong,
I found women too, young and not so old - “why?” and “how?” I ask.
The train kept moving, the ringing of the crossing bells and lights reminding me of Christmas
Now past buildings, lots filled with old cars, barrels, broken stuff
Strewn about, disorganized to most, a rusty child’s bike caught my eye, made my heart ache
Old, fading, caught in time
Juxtaposed with the Oregonian forests outlining the horizon in the background
“Why?”
Why trespass nature and abuse yourself?
Why can’t you, why can’t we live in harmony and leave a place better than we find it?
Both sides along these tracks are lined with stories begging to be told.
Too late, I blinked, I didn’t catch it all
Now, already there’s greenery at the water’s edge of the river that meanders along our way
Small communities with proper yards, with property lines defined pop up
Part of America’s small towns that I had heard and read about
Here they are the un-city dwellers, the not-so up and coming ones,
The ones with a barn and tractor, chicken coops, horses and cows,
Here live men and women who find their way into the local coffee shops or corner markets,
Those who know each other by first name
Those not on the covers of magazines or on the front pages of tabloids or the internet
Then, somehow I caught her at the right distance in the middle of her yard
Near the frontage road that parallels the railroad track
A white woman dressed in black shorts, black t-shirt and in sandals
Waving hello or bon voyage
At the conductor? Or just anyone to connect with, see if someone waves back?
So I did. I waved back, reached out
At the lonely figure standing there, in the center of her yard, her world
I caught just a glimmer of her smile and smiled back
As the air horn sounded twice, red lights blinked, crossing bells rang: Just passing through
Scheme | A BXXCXXAXX XXXXBXXXX XCXDXXXXX XEXXEDXEX |
---|---|
Poetic Form | |
Metre | 11010 1 11 10111010 1010110011101 10111010100110101 1000101101101011011 0111001101101 10100111111 111011011110111 0111001010101010101110 11101111110101 10101011010111111111 110101 0110010010100010001 1 111000101 111111101000101101111 1101111111010111 111111111 10101100101011010101001101 101001101110010111 1101001111110101 11101101001110101 011010101011001 11101011110101010111010 111110111 1110101101101101101010 11110101100010101 10101110011 011010111110010 10011110 100101110101111111 11111111 101010101001010101 111010101011 101110111110111101 |
Closest metre | Iambic heptameter |
Characters | 2,224 |
Words | 412 |
Sentences | 11 |
Stanzas | 5 |
Stanza Lengths | 1, 9, 9, 9, 9 |
Lines Amount | 37 |
Letters per line (avg) | 47 |
Words per line (avg) | 11 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 347 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 79 |
About this poem
Reflections on a trip from Portland.
Font size:
Citation
Use the citation below to add this poem analysis to your bibliography:
Style:MLAChicagoAPA
"Train 11 Leaving Portland" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 31 May 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/164015/train-11-leaving-portland>.
Discuss this Gregory Baranoff poem analysis with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In