The Tracks

By Matthew Howard Frierdich

Let’s go back to the time when trains ran past with a clamor of box cars carrying goods on their way

 To some unnamed destination

Let’s go back to you and me walking the tracks together, arm in arm

                Put a penny on the tracks, I say to you, you tell me you don’t have one

                                                                                                                                So I give you mine

Now we wait for the train to come and roll it flat, we both wait in anticipation, its cold out here, you say

                After that we say nothing

                                                                                                                                You could cut the tension with a knife

Finally we feel a low rumbling in our feet and in moves up to your eyes and we look at each other and hop off the tracks

                We see the tracks shift and watch as the giant iron behemoth comes and roll your penny flat

                                                                                                                                Now we wait

The penny can be your good luck charm

                I don’t need luck, you say

The penny can be a token in remembrance of me and a long time ago when we used to walk arm in arm along the tracks

                                                                                                                                That— I need