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