Memory Train

Memories are a train to the past,
a diesel locomotive with coal tender,
box cars and red caboose.  Transcending
time, my train takes me to Target Moon
and baseball gloves, to woods, ravine
and frozen pond where we played
hockey, built a fire on the shore
in gripping winter cold.

I see the train, I feel the train
the rumble of steel wheels on rail,
and there in attic I perceive mementos
of a happy time, an upstairs only half finished
with brother on the other side.  And of course
I was there for his teasing, for that rite of
passage older brothers need to take.

Grade school appears--those oversized yellow
report cards with check marks in either
satisfactory or not, and comments from
the teacher if she was so disposed.
This chugging train with all its
pull allows free passage to
before; the face of Mom 
and Dad apparent,
the click-clack o’er the tracks extant.
Take that train, and get lost in time.


25 Lines
Writer’s Cramp
1-21-16