A Sonnet To My Little Town by Ron Flowers

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A Sonnet To My Little Town

There is not much left of the little town
Weeds grow high around the old country store
The old railroad station has been torn down
And the train doesn't stop here anymore.

The old store stands like a ghost from the past
It's been vacant for fifty years or more
A vivid reminder that few things last
Now the train doesn't stop here anymore.

Old men sat around a pot belly stove
And talked about living in days of yore
Now the old men have gone to their reward
And the train doesn't stop here anymore

It's been a long time since they closed the store
The train will never stop here anymore.

Ron Flowers 2008

Ron Flowers

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Thad Wilk (10/21/2008 10:21:00 PM)
A very touching write Ron! A pleasure to read indeed! *10*! !
Best regards!
Friend Thad

Kesav Easwaran (10/16/2008 10:51:00 AM)
a poem train running along non stopping thought stations...impressive write 10

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Ron Flowers (March 12,1936 / Letart, West Virginia)