THE CHILD WITHIN

 

 

It was in the moonlight that I saw him,

a man younger than my father, sent on

laughter brought by the sight of the train.

 

 

He stood at attention, waving his blue and white cap,

the schoolboy inside leaping out, holding on

to another time.

 

 

With a fierce stride, he ran beside the engine

as it rumbled, black smoke filled the evening sky,

brakes sparked as it changed tracks over the murky river.

 

 

His face mirrored in the silver metal as it wheeled by,

an endless joy radiated from the glare of the railway light.

 

 

As the caboose turned the corner,

the man’s smile faded into reality,

he sunk with displeasure,

onto the rocks beneath the sole of his shoes.

 

 

Minutes later,

he headed across the oiled tracks,

underneath a gray fog,

and disappeared over the hilltop.

 

 

The child within was a working man,

saddled to responsibility,

but tomorrow he’d return,

as the whistle blew and the steel clanged

a midnight song.

 

 

 I wanted it to be a cardinal.

 

 

Ruby feathers that spread from one side of the country to the other. 

 

 

When I looked into his eyes, that were the color of a rose in bloom, I was mesmerized by the wealth of memories it held within.

 

 

As though it had lived many ages where people forgot. They forgot how to flesh out the falseness that poured into their minds.

 

 

No shield was powerful enough to deflect the lies.

 

 

Don’t be fooled by its light stature. The bird soared through wind and rain. Its strength wasn’t on the outside. It was in his actions.

 

 

I wanted it to be a cardinal.

 

 

Or maybe I needed it to be.

 

 

This happened a lot, where I wished something was what it wasn’t. Must be the dreamer in me. Grasping for beauty when beauty doesn’t exist.

 

 

But it was only a small flag. 

 

 

A stick in the ground with a red piece of plastic waving in the breeze to warn people not to dig.