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lovetowritepoetry
Poems
Jun 2024
Whistle Stop
Hanging out at the fishin’ pond I’d catch either blue gill or bass
Nearby was a huge field of bluebell flowers & Kentucky blue grass
In time for the 3 pm train I can hear in the distance the blaring whistle
Warning as it comes down the track, steaming past the purple thistle
Riding slowly by the conductors knew I’d be fishing, I’d hold up my fish, they’d open the window
And they’d say that’s a very nice fish Lynne, Can you catch one for me too, kiddo?
They knew me by name because they sometimes stop their train get off and say hello and come visit my grandparents on the farm.
They’d usually pause, get a plate of grandmas shuckie beans and cornbread, cobbler for a meal, after all quick break, was really no harm.
It was a great time for all of us when they would arrive on occasion
For the railroad men to stop by, it was for them, a little gratification
published in the Crawfordsville, Indiana newspaper 2024
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lovetowritepoetry
In the city
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Pradip Chattopadhyay
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