Ride my yellow mare

Down to the station

Stand on the platform

All sag and warp

Wait the train

Wait the smoke

See the dust

See it choke the day

See the man

Feel the plain

See the youth fade



He is known as Jones

He comes here every year

On the selfsame day

Few have seen the tear

On his face

Hold the yellowed letter

Gently as I can

Read the faded writing

>From the girl back East

All sweat and hope

It says, "I am scared.

They still search for you.

No more contact.

It's the best thing to do.

If I come some year soon

It will be the tenth of June,

My love."



See the yellow mare

Down by the station

Tied to the platform

Beneath the big sky

All sweat

And sleep

Prick her ear

Blink her eye

At the train

Rushing by

If it stopped

Would she shy?

But the train

Rushes by



A woman whispers,

"He is known as Jones, he

Comes here every year.

On the selfsame day.

I think this makes the

Tenth year."

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Eric Wincentsen

267@ef.gc.maricopa.edu

Glendale Community College

Glendale, Arizona

"Let's get the baby high