Thursday, June 6, 2013

the back porch



early to mid sixties

a cool dusk
amid one of the countless summer nights
the faint aroma of honeysuckle

i remember
peering behind the porch screen
we finlayson kids doubled and perched
upon the giant porch rockers
watched the vanishing treeline
against the gathering darkness
the sky turned deeper and deeper
shades of blue
til all was changed to night
to us the world was safe
all was well
we heard crickets
a cast of thousands
crickets in the woods all around
unseen distant and very near
dogs barking in the distance
dogs barking near
then silence
then broken
we listened to the rumble
of a distant train
running down the tracks
running through the valley
the track beyond the trees
from way down the mountain
we heard the horn clearly
passing in the night
the rockers squeaked
children giggled
children cuddled
comfortable together
then silence
then broken
we talked about the sounds
we talked about the night
we told ghost stories
scared outselves
with made up ghost stories
about ghost trains
lost trains far from home
and there we were
on the back porch safe
on the back porch
of our home
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