p
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o
m
o
g
r
a
p
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y
writings about
walking around
,
the prom
,
and
moving forward
.
on Friday, my commuter pulled next to a freight train
which was running at a nearly equal speed
on one of the side tracks.
i gazed out the window and looked for hobos.
my train stopped at my station and i got off.
i crouched down and peered under the train;
i could see the freight train there on the other track,
hidden otherwise from view, still ambling by slowly.
i stood up and walked to the end of the platform...
and waited.
(i walk to my car by trekking down the tracks,
so that i can avoid having to cross several intersections
by passing over them on the rail overpasses.)
my train pulled out of the station,
and there it was, still rolling slowly by,
the freight train.
and i stepped down from the platform and onto the tracks,
and crossed over to it.
just in time to reach out and touch the last car.
it was moving so slowly.
i was walking behind it and keeping up.
watching the rusted metal of the last car in front of me.
i knew
i could increase my pace and get close enough
to reach the bottom rung of the ladder.
i knew i could climb up onto it.
just for a minute.
it was moving so slow.
i could hop right back off, no problem.
just for a minute...
but i knew i couldn't.
it was right there, so slow, so available,
but i didn't dare.
if i'd climbed onto it
i might not have been able to climb off.
and not due to its speed...


Father, 04/09/01

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