He loves his trains, he loves them
he’d even take them to bed if he could
he knows them all by name
whether metal, plastic, or wood.
He lays out the tracks on the floor
from the roundhouse going as far as he can
for as long as he’s got tracks in his hands,
he’ll keep going, there is no set plan
till not a track is left in his hand
though there seems to be some destination
that only he knows of, only he sees
there can be no other distractions
until to the bridge the trains come
then everything has to be just right –
in line, head to tail, in some order
he lines them all by sight
and then just as he began, he’ll forget them,
each and every one
on to something else, something different
train tracks now forgotten
via Journey Into Autism | Finding My Way Through A Child’s Diagnosis.
4 thoughts on “He Loves His Trains”
That’s interesting my nephew has autism and he likes trains too! He wants every kind of whistle/horn he can find. Wonderful poem!
Thank you. My son loves trains and fire trucks of which he has so much, but of course, he wants more 🙂
These guys tend to like the noisy things, don’t they?
Yes, they do 🙂