I watch the ripples change their size
But never leave the stream
Of warm impermanence
And so the days float through my eyes
But still the days seem the same
And these children that you spit on
As they try to change their worlds
Are immune to your consultations
They're quite aware of what they're goin' through

Tuesday, November 29, 2005

Get ready, there’s a train a commin’

Here in Ohio, we’ve been ripping up railroad tracks and putting in bike trails. We call it “Rails to Trails” and it’s an excellent program. Here is the bone though, what if there is a person who lives close to one of these, and he still hears the train going through at night. Interesting, no? As they say on infomercials, “But wait, there’s more.” If you’ve ever lived near an active train track, you’ll know that after a while, you don’t really hear the train. So why is he hearing the train now? And here’s the twist, this person didn’t live there when the rail track was active. If I write this story I might also bring into it a piece about the “Death Trains” of Gettysburg, which took out the dead and nearly dead after the battle. They only ran at night, and as a soldier in the hospital, you didn’t want to be taken down to the station as it was growing dark.

There’s also something about an old-fashioned steam train bringing in a snowstorm. I’m talking blizzard. I can see it in that mind’s eye, but I have no idea what the story is.

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