Midnight by Sara Holbrook
When it’s Sunday
and it’s midnight,
the weekend
put back in its chest,
5 the toys of recreation,
party times
and needed rest.
When I lie in wait
for Monday
10 to grab me by the ear,
throw me at the shower,
off to school
and when I hear
the train at midnight
15 from so many miles away...
when it’s Sunday . . .
and it’s midnight . . .
the train
in passing brays and boasts
20 it’s steel-track-straight,
on schedule, arrival times to keep.
And I meander to its rhythm,
flopping like a fish.
25 Why can’t I get to sleep?
Why can’t I get to sleep?
Question: How are the train and the speaker similar?