Trains In The Distance

I ride on the backs of trains Hoping to hear hoboes Singing Songs of a lost America Before the Space Age and The Bomb A time when riding was a Dream, a chance to see The world Each city and town distinct drugstore and barber shop steel mill and mine farmland and rolling hill The pastures whizzing by… Sometimes I still hear the whistle blow The wind chugging through the trees My hat pulled low across my brow a Tug of wheat between my teeth And time just doesn't seem to matter I kick back my boots on a bale of straw And drift away Rocking to the rhythm of the rails. ~ Laurence Overmire (Previously published in Honor and Remembrance, Indelible Mark Publishing,2007)