Power

By Corrine Hales

No one we knew had ever stopped a train.

Hardly daring to breathe, I waited

Belly-down with my brother

In a dry ditch

Watching through the green thickness

Of grass and willows.

Stuffed with crumpled newspapers,

The shirt and pants looked real enough

Stretched out across the rails. I felt my heart

Beating against the cool ground

And the terrible long screech of the train’s

Braking began. We had done it.

Then it was in front of us— hundred iron wheels tearing like time

Into red flannel and denim, shredding the child

We had made—until it finally stopped.

My brother jabbed at me,

Pointed down the tracks.

A man had climbed out of the engine, was running

In our direction, waving his arms,

Screaming that he would kill us—

Whoever we were.

Then, very close to the spot

Where we hid, he stomped and cursed

At the rags and papers scattered

Over the gravel from our joke.

I tried to remember which of us

That that red shirt had belonged to,

But morning seemed too long ago, and the man

Was falling, sobbing, to his knees.

I couldn’t stop watching.

My brother lay next to me,

His hands covering his ears,

His face pressed tight to the ground.

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"Power" by Corrine Hales (Prose)

Y11 Poetry