Once was whenever I saw train tracks
laid end to end, finishing somewhere
down the line beyond the distant horizon,
I wanted to climb aboard those flat-bottomed
steel rails and keep on walking, never
a care where I might go.
At sixteen, even took a chance ride,
jumping on the first slow moving boxcar
with sliding door already ajar,
an easy escape from where I had been
That first taste of freedom
was indescribable, with just a hint
of adrenaline rush at whether
I would be found out, and rousted
from the safety I had found.
Clickety clack, clickety clack,
I let her take me fifty miles before,
letting caution guide me,
disembarking back onto the still ground,
convinced of a faraway future,
when I would no longer need
to be keeping track.
©Paul Goldman May 13, 2022
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