1. I. Catching Out II. The Farther We Get The Better
As I stand on the edge of the steel porch. I look inward, Our feet feel nice against the cold steel. There is something quite poetic about coming to the end with our feet bare and hands dirty. I know the trestle is approaching at speed. Gazing out upon this serene valley,
I have thought about this day my whole life. When I leave it all behind: We wave our hands to an invisible audience; we are flying like birds with clipped wings. The wind caresses my face and we close our eyes. When they open I see soft green grass on rolling hills, horses grazing in fields, endless golden hay, and vivid blue skies. I am home. 1. II. The Farther We Get The Better
I can hear the rumble of the diesel giant, the bell softly chiming in the night, and the shrill groan of steel against steel. As the train approaches, my heart and soul fill with anticipation. We climb the ladder and get settled for the night. Another run up the coast, but this time I won't be coming back...