Talking about Trains and Poems

I used to write poems. I think I wrote poems for every meaningful person in my life.

My sister sent me this via email. I knew I wrote this, but I couldn't place for whom until after I was reading halfway through.
Ah yes, Mr. Train -- the guy I remember every time I'd hear the train whistle blows.

He was my huge, huge crush in college - and I was friends with him as well.
He's married now.

We used to talk on the phone 'til the wee hours in the morning.
His house was near the train station, so I could actually hear the train arriving and going.

What's funny is that - he'd hear our dogs barking!

So, while trains remind me of him...
...he's reminded of me when he hears dogs barking!

'Twas insulting if I didn't have such a huge crush on him.
He even gave me a dog figurine.
That reminds me... where the heck is that figurine?!

Oh, well.

P.S. How the heck did my sister get hold of this?!
She's in UK for crying out loud!

Here's the poem.

Trains were not but trains.

And the whistle echoed on empty walls;
ignored;
unrecognized.
Yes, they were but trains,
until you.
For now as the train whistle blows;
and fades to oblivion,
oblivion of night’s silence;
your memory stays
and echoes on
as i listen.
For again i hear your voice;
and i’d hear your laughter,
mimics the train’s quiescent rhythm.
And then i’d curse you
because you came
and made me feel again
and like the train’s resounding threat,
you, too, would leave then.
And i’d find myself thinking of you
again.
Always.
An insistent thought.
The first thought that comes with the dawn’s rising;
the lingering thought that does not subdue
even with the twilight’s need of stillness.
Thoughts like the call of the sun-kissed field;
a chant like that of a haunting prayer;
a need like that of hunger,
that’s how i think of you.
And so the train’s threat teases me;
teases me with thoughts of you;
teases me of things i once dreamed of,
and damns me more to you.
Yes, it was a train,
as it has always been,
but it means more now
because of you.