Another poem from "Sage and High Iron" by CharlesD. Dulin, 1951
From The Westbound Stage website.
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| The Southern Pacific Co. depot at Carrizozo, New Mexico, c1950, by Peter Hurd. |
from "Sage And High Iron," by Charles D. Dulin
Copyright 2021, by The Westbound Stage
For explanations, hover over any GREEN text.
I'm one who feels the roll of wheels,
The side-door Pullman's bounce and sway,
I've got wild brains and a boomer's veins
And I fret for scenes of the early day.
I like this set but I can't forget,
'Cause the old times hang in my memory
And the tales grow tall when the grab irons call
And a big hog screams at the 'bo in me.
On the line today in my lonely bay
I sit and play with a host of schemes.
As I trace the trails of the gleaming rails
That race in the scope of my vagrant dreams.
I would go back but this drab line shack
Is not so tough on the thin gray hair,
But the clock looks down with a half-cocked frown
As I lean 'way back in my wired-up chair.
Old time rolls on and they say he's gone.
That booming gent from the far decades;
They say at most he's a graveyard ghost
That hangs around when the daylight fades.
When a freight roars by 'neath a cloudless sky
Then my heart beats high and my blood runs free,
And there ain't no walls when the boom-trail calls
And the big hog screams at the 'bo in me.
(Charles D. Dulin)
