And there is the headlight,
shining far down the track,
glinting off the steel rails that,
like all parallel lines,
will meet in infinity,
which is after all where this train is going.
Grandson, Michael, learned how to run my model train today. It took only one showing for him to realize the orange lever controlled the speed of the train, and the black button made it whistle (much to the dog’s consternation). I was amazed since he just turned two. Then he looked at me with those Paul Newman eyes and called me by name for the first time. Misegades is a complex word for a two year old. I immediately decided I’d have to write a will so I can leave my model train to him.