Journey

May 23, 2018

Train

Walking the dog early on a crisp cool morning

Air crystalline, sun not up yet

Train whistle comes clearly up the ravine, and again

UP freight moving slowly through the south part of the city to cross the lake,

Mournful and reassuring at the same time.

And then, I was at the window of the second floor back bedroom,

It sounds, coming from the town’s train yard to the north of our house,

Some ten blocks away, early evening, high summer,

It calls. It calls from a great distance and time, to a boy and  a man.

I am passing through.

My dad answers,

We get into the car and off to the station

Park and watch the coupling and moving of the cars,

Locomotive growling, cars shuttling huge and dark

Bam! as they connect.

The Cotton Belt freight trains,

Passenger train from Memphis and beyond,

On to Little Rock and beyond.

At the station some disembark, some get on.

Sometimes we sit in the car to watch,

Sometimes my dad gets out

Stands by the tracks to be close.

Did he yearn to be on one of those trains,

Getting out of the traps life brought him

Traps – the great depression, a wife and little boy

Trap of a widowed mother in a big old house,

Having to make ends meet in a difficult time and place

Did he miss his big chance to escape?

Did he yearn to be one of those passing through?

Where would he have gone?

I know.

A journey to him forbidden, inadmissible, leading to ruin.

I know why.

I hear the train whistle today

This crisp early morning

Across that long distance and time,

I have escaped for him.

The little dog pauses, raises his head, cocks his ears, moves on.

I go with him. I go for him.

I know the destination.