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3596

...a special childhood memory It was raining. The sky was mottled, like a charcoal sketch too often handled. My friend told me he had seen her, parked away from all the others, likely left there for the night. My mother couldn't comprehend the pounding in my chest, a giddy feeling overwelming me. With her permission I was town-bound in my Wellingtons and Pac-a-Mac, a young boy on a mission, starry-eyed, anticipating. At last I would complete the series, underline the only number missing from my list. There she was, forlorn, as if forgotten, in the ill-lit station yard. I touched her and I smelled her, like a long lost dog who'd wandered, just a number, such a number as to fill my heart with joy!

Copyright © | Year Posted 2009




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Date: 5/14/2012 6:27:00 AM
A great poem. It's also like walking into a piano store, and getting your first glimpse of a shiny ebony Baby Grand piano. Its beautiful. Have a great day .
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Date: 1/4/2010 9:05:00 AM
A train!? a steam train? I love trains I've been on the Flying Scottsman, the Mistrale in France, and the bullit trains in Japan. Light & Love
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Date: 1/3/2010 12:25:00 PM
Those are the moments we live for. Nice write.
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