Train Whistle

Reliving Past History

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Cannot remember when I first heard it.

Do know I was young at the time.

That old train whistle and its allure.

Home was not the best for me.

Rules I was not prepared to follow.

One morning packed a knapsack

before dawn started walking the rails.

Found a still train and joined the cargo.

At every stop, jumped to another boxcar,

never really knowing what direction

that the old train would go.

Happy to see the landscape.

Take in the beautiful of all terrains.

The people I have met

have always been so nice.

Fellow train-hoppers like me.

They were looking for missed adventure

or running away or both.

Stories were freely shared

as the land went by.

Sometimes late at night

I wonder about the family

that I left behind.

Think to myself

if I turned out

the way my mother thought I would

or my glaring absence

frightened my father like I used too.

They have not heard of me

since I left them a note.

As time has gone by

there are not as many trains to ride

however I can always find one.

The people you see are less and less.

The rail-runners are a dying breed.

Have accepted my day will end out here.

I have lived how I wanted too.

Until that day

will go wherever the train whistle blows.

By Andrew Scott

From: Canada

Instagram: andrewscott1971

Twitter: justmaritimeboy

Facebook URL: https://www.facebook.com/andymscott