The Ten P.M. Train

See it as another one of the jewels Of the night: how its star rises longitudinally, Throwing starry radiance forward along steels, How it tumbles from space into local orbit, Quick-flashing its riches: the silver chain Of faceted cars; in the diner, carnations In cut-glass; white napery; a fruited tray Borne above lighted heads; in the last Pullman A blind raised on a comet-streak stateroom. Signal lights urge the star distantly onward: Topaz to emerald to fast-blinking rubies Of block occupied. The black diamond is cut By flanged wheels. Quietly, a light shower Sequins the bricks of the station platform, Mists the hill vista, the silent streets of night.