Sweet photo Teresa. Great poem Cletis. A perfect combination. There was a railroad (The Milwaukee Road) track that ran about 75 yards from our house. I vividly remember rushing to the tracks just as the caboose passed. I would touch the rails to feel its warmth. The hot tracks also give off a distinctive aroma. Makes me want to re-live that experience. It would remind me of home.
Steven, I grew up about 1/2 mile from the tracks, which ran next to my grandparents farm at the edge of what we referred to as "the foothills." I would run down that hot sandy road to watch the train go by and can so recall the "distinctive aroma." Trains and tracks are built into my psyche, and Cletis' poem perfectly captures the feelings they evoke.I love being able to recall these memories and hearing of yours, our similar experiences. Home is a mighty fine place to be...Thank you so much for commenting.
Nothing better than the sound of a train going by. The click clack, the sound of the swaying cars, the sound of the brakes and the sound of the cars as they take off from a standing start. A few years ago I returned to my home town. Our house was long gone replaced by a carpet of green grass. Interesting enough the sidewalks were still intact as were all of the trees I used to climb. The train tracks are gone. It now serves as a bike and walking path. I gathered a few remnants from the foundation of the house and left with a million memories.
How wonderful that the trees you once climbed remain. Oh, yes, the million memories of childhood, especially the ones small towns and country life offered... My childhood home is standing but with many additions and alterations. What remains the same is the granary that became my playhouse. All that has changed of my grandparents home is the color. Thank you, Steven... :)
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