MAIL TRAIN by Gene Minix Running down that little dirt road. I listened to the long whistle's call. Cotton fields on my left, corn on the right. Getting dust in the cuffs of my overalls. The long whistle blowing And knowing that I'd soon see. The northbound mail train Brought daily excitement to me. Around the curve, light on That giant locomotive I could see. Barefooted, I stood as close to the track as I dared And the engineer would always wave at me. I always wondered where it was going. Where it would rest at end of day. To another state maybe. To a town far, far away. And far away would some boy or girl Stand waiting just like me With excitement in their being That giant locomotive to see. It was special to a little boy On the farm long ago. To watch the smiling engineer wave An to hear the long whistle blow. © Copyright 2013, by Gene Minix. All rights reserved. |
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