imagine the world
at ten
too large
to know the end
ten blocks
in the direction walked
each day to school
and back
then
my father
a Christmas surprise
brought home
a set of Lionel trains
right from the window
of Macy’s downtown
the tracks laid the world opened
two engines with fake smoke
passing near one another
by a station master
holding a swinging lantern
around around around
passing people villages cars
created for imagining
until
I moved the track
that ran over the bridge
timed so the locomotive
and its line of cars
could fall through
landing on the passing train
beneath
destroying the engine cars
the only gift
I remember my father
giving me
