Sunday, June 19, 2016

Song for the Fathers Who Have Gone



  
Pinterest.com

I remember holding hands with you
Walking to the grocery store
I remember standing on your shoes
On the dance floor
In my little girl mind you were the king of the world
I was glad to be my daddy's girl

I remember waking before light
Driving to the Hollywood bowl
Easter Sunday, saw the sunrise bright
In my soul
In my little girl mind you could do no wrong
Here's to the Fathers who are gone



Handball games against the garage door
My brothers would usually win
You could yell, sometimes you swore
You loved us in the end
You would play piano
Always the same old song
Haven't heard that sonatina in so long

On my wedding day you never smiled
Losing your baby girl
Years have passed and now the loss is mine
But you left your signature
In my grown up girl mind
You're there at dusk and dawn
Here's to the fathers
Who are gone

So long, farewell
Till we meet again
I'll be missing you
Until then.

 

 

Wednesday, June 15, 2016

The Music of The Rail

Hanging on, knuckles white, grip slips from engine grease. Hair whips and stings, eyes water from gritty blasts of wind. Hearts pump hard, thoughts fire to stay steady, lay low and conquer the illicit challenge against the iron leviathan, high speed and the lurking law.

This was the intoxicating draw for five young men. This was the sheer fright of their mothers.

After the surge of strength, wit and agility required to hop a multi-ton locomotive, then came the calm, the serene and sublime. Visions of satin rivers, waving grasses and muslin clouds soothed nerves, jagged from the jump. Each silent in their own personal reverie, the bond of mutual experience was thick. Sitting on an uncomfortable corrugated metal floor, they drank in the peace and glory of creation. Every forest was a chapel, every sunbeam, heaven's light, breathing in the nourishment of nature.




Silence was accompanied by the rhythmic underscore of the engine, the white noise that cures a fretful mind.  The vistas and reverberations became their music.

Ride on, Railroad Five. See you around the next bend.




Leave your email address here to receive automatic blog updates.