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