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George Lewis Avery

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the railroad bed nearby my home
is overgrown in weeds
how many years?
i cannot say
since the freight train last rumbled by
at 5 pm
and dad ambled home from the fields
white teeth flashing behind a darkened face
wearing cockleburs and beggarweed
and smelling of the earth
straightway to the kitchen
where emerged the clink
and clatter of dishware
moms laughter
supper smells
and i

the rails are gone now
work crews removed them
a dozen years ago
along with the gravel
and the ties
but not the ghosts
each day
as i return from the fields
i see them
holding silent vigil
beside the track
waiting on a train
that shant return

and here i cling
a farmer
a poet
averse to change

.oeg ©

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