Oh! How I miss those long, sleepless nights
spent fixin' the railroad tracks
so the choochoos could haul all their heavy loads
without worrying 'bout what's out of whack.

I'd be sawin' those logs all snug in my bed
I may have quit hurtin' from the day - -
when ring-ding-a-ling--that phone would sure ring.
No need to answer to know what they'd say.

A broken fire-wire over Cimarron River bridge
was not something to look forward to.
Up the embankment I'd climb to get to the tracks--
a hundred feet above water (not easy to do).

Fifteen hundred feet long, a bridge worth my note,
was a challenge to this stout hearted guy.
From one end to the other I'd search for the wire
Under starlight in a pitch black sky.

Go home if I got through, for eats and a bath,
so tired I could barely stand straight.
Back out on the rails for another day's work
Maintaining signals or fixin' a gate.

Work on a switch point or perhaps a stock rail,
help M of W change out a frog.
A mile's worth of poles broken off at the ground,
Another day----work like a dog.

A broken gate here, run grinders on the rail,
Noon comes and I want to lie down,
but here comes the message 'bout another malfunction
and I must go look for a ground.

At ten I get home from a day on the rails
and supper's no longer that hot.
Wife's mad, makes a fuss; I'm tired, I cuss,
for a night's sleep I'd give all I've got.

"Bout four in the morn while Guymon's asleep
more trouble that might stop the trains
demands my attention, whether ready or not.
Forget breakfast! Forget sleep! Forget pains!

Xing's signal's in trouble - not HXP3 - -
or a hotbox just stopped a train.
A GCP signal was failing to flash
and has to be fixed, even in the rain.

In winter I'd work on broken rails,
climb poles in snowstorms and sleet
that one to two inches of ice covern' them.
Beat it off with a lag wrench and sink in my cleats.

I've had lightning hit poles I was climbing
that burned wire in twos for a mile.
It set fires as it went, raging hell bent
to be put in a Safety Meeting file.

Hot weather made tools hard to handle --
like shovels and bars and such.
My gloves were a much needed item
making them much easier to touch.

They installed a new signal system:
Electric signals with all circuits on rail,
no pole lines, but then when it's lightning
it locks itself out and goes all to hell!

My last two or three years I was meeting
on Safety -- or -- Control of HazMat --
on Hotbox -- or -- Signals -- or -- Kissing a dummy
to learn life saving techniques -- STAT!

I've seen train wrecks that killed lots of people
who didn't believe what they'd read.
Stop, Look and Listen didn't get their attention,
And they find themselves suddenly dead.

I retired where I can't hear a whistle
and my skills are just not for hirin'.
My collection of trains make me happy
that they don't need repair -- just admirin'.

| Return to Poetry Index |
| Seniors-Site Homepage | E-Mail | Site Master |