the best years of my life

after my mid-life crises

i used to ride the rails

across country.

i'd hop

on a freight train

heading south,

or west

to get away from it all.

the wife

and kids,

the job,

i'd leave all my troubles

behind

with a sack

of clothes,

a few dollars in my

pocket

a harmonica in my

mouth

and a bandana

wrapped around

my head.

nothing else.

they were the best years

of my life.

nothing has ever been as

good as those

days as a hobo.

sometimes i wake up

in the middle of the night

and i can hear

and feel those

wheels beneath me as i

lie in a bed of straw

and mice.