If You Miss the Train I’m On

If You Miss the Train I’m On By Lenee Cobb You will know that I am gone; you can hear the whistle blow 500 miles. I sit outside on the patio at my parent’s condominium in Lakewood in the wee hours of the morning crying. It is raining softly. Daddy is now 84. Mom is a few years younger. Daddy had a stroke last month and mom had one last week. It is summertime and their window is open above the patio. I can hear them snoring comfortably through it. After all the years of rambling around the country, my … Continue reading If You Miss the Train I’m On