stuck in this town I call home
where I once dreamed to return to
the steady clank of the railway
a distant voice announcing departures
barely audible
train after train
leaving
the place of warm memories
frogspawn-filled ditches
too wide to jump over
scraped knees and popsicles
carving initials
into tree trunks
the pocketknife I still carry with me
too dull to cut anything loose
stuck with the choices
I keep making
© coldscars