The Last Train From Childhood
Nineteen forty four I rode my first train.
Oh, what a joyous, grownup thing it was!
Heading for the forest and off the Plain
Lifts the young spirit like little else does.
Stopped in Dallas - busiest place I'd seen!
People rushing to trains seemed everywhere.
But something was wrong with this Texas scene -
Many were strange and it caused me to stare
It seemed like a hundred, or maybe more,
Had "POW" stamped on their clothes.
Broad striped shirts and pants of denim they wore.
The war was far away -could these be those?
Then I saw a look on my momma's face.
Something or someone had taken its toll.
Past and present came together in place -
Depression, the war, the hated dust bowl.
They all rolled into prisoners of war,
And so she cried with a quivering lip.
Something I had thought would always be far
Caused a laughing childhood to lose its grip.
So I put away the games I had played -
Thought of grownup things as I thought I should.
The memory of Dallas rightly stayed
At the front as the last train from childhood.
4/18/18
For contest An Early Childhood Memory for Line Gauthier
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