So long friend
Hear the whistle blowing
Boarding time one A.M.
Riden' the Rock Island Rocket
So long friend
Got to leave you now
Wish you could come with me
On the last train out of town
I’ll always remember
The way you looked at me
The tears in your eyes
When it came departure time
Burning' down the iron rails
Taking' the last train home
Burning' down the iron rails
Ridin' the Rock Island Rocket
So long friend
Last call for riders cried out
Someday I'll be back to you
Ridin' the Rock Island Rocket
About the Creator
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Reaching Out
I promise her. I'd do anything for her. She's my mom. Even as Lanie and Deanna are flying home, Mom is scrappy fighting dying. She lays too still in that too-big bed with all the toasty white hospital blankets, in the south tower, at the broad end of a long slow-turning corner that delivers me again to her private room with the view she can't see through, with the beeping that tells us nothing new, and all these ice chips she can't swallow, and a flood of well-intentioned nurses who cannot do a damned thing all the same.
By Christy Munson3 days ago in Fiction
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