Following the Tracks
gone fishing as kids meant
follow where train tracks went
and by putting an ear to the rails
listen for sounds of rumbling wheels
the river bank on one side of a bridge
was the only access down the ridge
then finally with baits in the depths
and a dry log on which to comfortably rest
on came a new transistor radio set
to hear our town station all we could get
country and rock echoed loud sounds
to be deafened by rumbling tracks above ground
going fishing now means more for hidden life actualities
innately deeper concepts than those of measurable realities
so while the stereo whispers follow easy relaxations
and listen to mellow jazz piano train tracks
hidden conceptual mechanics rising through depths of mind
become clearer defining life with respect a river called time
stan sand
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