I could measure the excitement by
Just how close the train was.
Walking along the tracks,
Hot summer days, finding marbles,
When the rails would vibrate,
We would look behind us,
And in front,
And quickly pull the pennies
From our pockets, and lay them on the rail.
Then it became a waiting game.
Suddenly the train wasn't coming that fast.
Step away from the tracks,
Huddle in the ditch if you like,
Feel the power of the train,
Air pushing against my body,
As the caboose went,
Remember to wave at the people.
Then it was up on the tracks again.
The penny never stayed on the rail.
In fact, we hardly ever found them,
But, occasionally, there it would be,
Elongated, crushed, turned into something
Different.
These pennies on the tracks.
