Riding the train, holding the rail,
Waiting for my next stop, and future trail.

As most of this journey, traveling all alone,
No past life baggage, looking for, or following me,
As morning & nights pass, where will my next stop be.

Mom left for heaven, six months ago, with her earthly log,
My only family connection, and responsibility now,
Taking care of Ginger, her old yellow lab dog.

As I look down the tracks,
I thought I felt, A drop of rain from the sky,
It will always be tough the rest of my life,
To keep tears, from falling, out of my eyes.


Tom Maxwell copyright 3/2/2019 AD  11:00 AM