'The Depot By The Tracks' Poem by Whitney Nicole Albright*

Daddy would crank up the old chevy
And I would jump on the back
He'd drive on into town
Down to the railroad tracks

The tracks down by the depot
That stretched toward the river brim
Daddy'd light up an old cigar
And tell me secrets about him

He'd pull out a penney
And hand it to me on tales
I'd carry it around a while
And then lay it on the rails

I loved the beautiful Tallapoosa
With its sounds of brushing weeds
The river's timely flow
Matched their steady speeds

And the sun would set in Wadley
Upon the open plain
And we'd leave the blowing whistle
After counting carts on the train

Every year the paint's more chipped
And it looks more and more haunted
It's sad such a run down depot
Was once so daily flaunted

The long bench that held passengers
Still sits empty and alone
Every bit of history
Is carried for so long

Time takes its toll
The walls fade and crack
But nothing could stand as strong
As the depot by the tracks