We are on a one way track to healing.
Chugging down the track, snotty horns a blaring into my Kleenex.
The rickety old train with its heavier than normal road.
Not making a stop.
Not picking anything up.
Just chugging along.
Run along and jump.
This train can’t stop.
It may never start again.
This train wants to hide in the shed.
But with three wee train cars on the back, there ain’t no rest.
Weekends, the big handsome steam locomotive comes along to give us a pull.
But other than that we are stuck with the dirty, coal steam engine.
On the track.
Teary eyes forward.
Trying hard not to fall off.
Wow, this is one big hill.
“I think I Cann, I think I Cann!”