When we cannot visit the destinations that we desire to go to, we can travel to places in our imagination without ever leaving home. Edna St Vincent Millay’s poem ‘Travel’ explores this idea.
Travel By Edna St Vincent Millay
The railroad track is miles away, And the day is loud with voices speaking, Yet there isn’t a train goes by all day But I hear its whistle shrieking.
All night there isn’t a train goes by, Though the night is still for sleep and dreaming, But I see its cinders red on the sky, And hear its engine steaming.
My heart is warm with the friends I make, And better friends I’ll not be knowing; Yet there isn’t a train I wouldn’t take, No matter where it’s going.
