Thursday, March 16, 2006

Freight Train on Signal Street

Yes, there really is a Signal Street in downtown Rochester, and stopped at a gated crossing, I thought of the inevitable.

Clickety-clack, clickety-clack,
rumblin' down the railroad track,
loaded cars with screeching wheels,
round the bend on roads of steel.

Clickety-clack, clickety-clack.
We used to stand by the railroad track,
hand in hand, my boy and me,
and watch as far as the eye could see.

My boy's a railroad man these days,
with a railman's build, and a railman's ways,
an eagle eye on every gauge --
earning a railman's honest wage.

I'm proud of what my boy's become;
I'm glad his dream never came undone.
But now, when I hear that clickety-clack,
I wonder if he'll ever come back,

And standing hand in hand with me,
look ahead as far as the eye can see.
So I sit and watch the train go slow,
and remember those days of long ago --
hand in hand, my boy and me,
watching as far as the eye could see.

copyright 2006 by Meg Lark