I️ ponder to compare the wooden tracks of old to the scene of the rising train.
In the morn of the twilight it cast sun shadows on the busy streets below
At night it roars with a thunderous light of sparks that zooms above your head like a mystical dragon of steel, screeching along the way.
“Next stop Chicago!”
Announces the robotic mystic beast.
What would the turn of the century conductor say, of this modern city’s present day?