The desert rocks have faded into green,
Replaced by autumn’s rich and vibrant scene.
Where once the sun beat down on canyon clay,
A cooler splendor frames the closing day.
A painted dream of emerald and gold.
A stone hillside arises, broad and grand,
Meticulously carved by human hand.
Encircled by a grove of changing trees,
Whose leaves toss softly in a gentle breeze,
A massive tunnel opens in the hill,
An arch of amber, beautiful and still,
With layered rings of orange, gold, and rust,
Shielding the passage from the mountain dust.
Deep from the shadows of that hollow stone,
A modern train emerges all alone.
Its face is painted in a brilliant blue,
With yellow accents striking, bright, and new.
It glides along the iron, parallel,
Breaking the silence of the quiet dell,
Its sleek design a testament to speed,
Fulfilling commerce and a modern need.
Beside the tracks, upon the grassy floor,
The gentle creatures gather by the score.
To left and right, a split and speckled herd
Of russet cows stands quietly, unstirred.
With coats of chestnut brown and milky white,
They watch the engine in the fading light.
Two stand upon the right with curious eyes,
Unmoved by iron or the train's great size.
Upon the left, a rustic shack is made,
With wooden walls that nestle in the shade.
A stone stairway climbs up the grassy rise,
Beneath the shelter of the evening skies.
The foreground glows with yellow mountain bloom,
Dispelling any hint of shade or gloom,
A masterpiece where steel and nature meet,
And autumn lays its carpet at their feet.