That track back

 

Monday, September 23, 2013

 

The light rain hums over head as I wait to get gas, a flash back to when I wore a patch and took that track there and back from here to there, learning to stick my ticket in a ticket sticker so I wouldn’t get stuck with a ticket for skipping the fare.

That was a frigid winter when I nearly withered from that weary trek along that track, lacking now only the black bite of cold nights alone, half blind biding time until the train came to relieve the pain,

Now, it is just a memory of chill I still recall but feel, not at all, glad for the gas and my glasses and the ability to see beyond it all and still make my way back with no need of track or black patch, although at moments, I still ache for it back – and have no clue as to why.