Jan
05
2008
A Journey Away from Generation X
Where have all the gentlemen gone?
Do women long for a tipped hat
and a kind word?
It doesn’t seem they do.
What a sad era I was born into.
I do not wish to be called an “X”.
Surely I am not alone
in feeling this way.
Through the middle of town
runs a railroad track; a skeletal remain
of a once thriving industry;
a once thriving way of life.
At the end is a caboose
faded from red to pink
by the unchanging sun.
How lonely she seems
remembering when she was wanted.
Here is my escape.
Her cracked and peeling paint flakes away
at my touch.
Weeds have grown all about her,
trying to hide her from the world.
But I see her beauty.
I climb inside
and sit upon her rotting cherry seat.
I close my eyes and imagine
being swept away to a world I miss,
yet never knew.
- Terry Cooper