Hair straight and brown,
slight childhood body
stood at the window
waiting
for the train to appear,
its forlorn whistle announcing
the beginning of the show.
Rumbling the earth,
it chugged past,
always in too much of a hurry.
They couldn’t see me wave
from my bedroom window ~
the engineer,
the man in the caboose
and all the passengers.
On days when
I stood on the sidewalk
they would all wave back,
maybe not the passengers
busy reading their books or
visiting with their friends.
Few trains carry passengers anymore
but I knew one day,
I would be on a train to hear
the whistle from the inside and
wave at the girl at the side of the road.
“A train will bring you back to the place you came from,
but it will not return you home.”
~ Jedediah Berry, writer







