My Job


It had been hanging in the front foyer of our home for as long as I could remember. I was surprised to see that Mom had left it behind when she decided to move her and my siblings to Fortuna following her and Dad’s divorce.

Finding the house empty was a shock. I had no idea she had left and it would be sometime before I would learn the details of their move.

It was the day following my birthday and I had hiked out of the hills behind the house after spending a few weeks in the woods. I was busy licking my injured pride after getting fired from the Air Force.

Called, “My Job,” it seemed appropriate after what had jus’ happened in my life.

It’s not my place
To run the train.
The whistle I can’t blow.

It’s not my place
To say how far
The trains allowed to go.

It’s not my place
To shoot off steam
Nor even clang the bell.

But let the damn thing
Jump the track…
And see who catches hell!

I decided to tuck in my backpack as I left the home I had grown up in.

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