Written
1993
Again the whistle blows.
Again I board the train.
From my seat
I sadly view my world,
as familiar as my
childhood paper route.
Three times boarded,
twice off in pain.
But I must move on.
I want to stay and yet,
there is another place
I need to see.
But for now,
I don't want to go.
I want to stay.
My world, comfortable,
no longer nourishes.
Soon the moving train
will bring anticipation
to match regret.
There is newness
where the rails meet,
then there will be only anticipation.
The whistle will blow
a new life announced.
Notes
I Loved my home Town of Trinidad, Colorado.I went there a good number of times since I left in 1953. My parents lived there until my father died in 1999. I returned for class reunions and kept hoping that my home town could hold me. It never could so getting on the train was painful. I have since come to believe it is home town loved better from afar. t has nothing for me but memories.