Thursday, February 5, 2009

Early

Five forty five am, and the trains sound at the same time they always have for at least my forty years. I hear them here, in this house just a couple miles from the house where my father would wake me up to go with him. To deer hunting, to Mass, to who knows where else. Before light, feeling the hundred pound weight of early, the trains announced a whole world of already awake.

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