Don’t Remember Train – Rick Drost – Feb 2015

I Don’t Remember Getting on this Train
Already out of town along the bay
The seats are pretty comfy though
I’ve brought some food from home it seems
Some bread, and apple and some cheese
I’ll sit and watch the shoreline sliding by
But I don’t remember getting on this train.

I never bought a ticket for this train..
The conductor smiles and nods as he goes by
I ask when the next station is
“Don’t worry you won’t miss it:
You’ll slow way down before you stop
That’s how you’re gonna know”
But I don’t remember getting on this train

If I weren’t on this train I’d be out there on those tideflats
Rake and wire basket digging clams
Back to the cottage kitchen where the chowder base is simmering,
And Mom and Barb are cackling ‘bout the butcher’s jokes today
But Mom and Barb are just two gals behind me to my right
And I don’t remember getting on this train.

Familiar long-forgotten upstate towns
Used to hum with industry but now they’re falliing down
Shuttered factories, empty streets
To Empty roads to fallow fields
where beam-bare barns
And corncrib bones
Succumb to buckthorn, curliing toward the sky
But I don’t remember getting on this train

Just got back from sitting with my Dad
He’s riding just a few cars up ahead
He’s happy with gentle rocking side to side,
Look how the sunlight hits that hill
Remember when we climbed it
Not that one Dad, but yes it sure looked like that that day

And now you’re here beside me
It’s been so long since I walked you home
You let me take your books I couldn’t think of what to say
Here now we can talk about our travels trials and triumphs
And sit and watch the golden fields slide by
Still I don’t remember getting on this train