Odessa Station

[couchgrouch]

Odessa StationI still see my older brother, back when we were kidscos I idolizd his courage, and daring things he didhe'd climb towering silos, in that Texas windthough he'd tell me not to, I'd always follow himand when he joined the army, fresh out of high schoolI tried to lie about my age, so I could sign up, tooand I can still remember, thinking I hated himwhen he told our mother, and she wouldn't let me indawn was a brush fire on the endless plainI didn't say goodbye when he stepped on the trainat the Odessa stationhe always sent us letters, but I never answered minetill my mother told me, I'd wish I had in timeso I took my old transistor, and snuck out of my roomclimbed up a midnight silo, and wrote by a quarter moonbut that night I knew something was wrongwhen the news cut off a Willie songon the Odessa stationthe morning haze was hanging, like grey and haunted leaves all along the train tracks, from naked, crooked treeshis box sat on the platform, the train faded 'cross the sandI stood crying with my mother, half-finished letter in my handI'd have followed him high and lowbut that morning as far as I could gowas the Odessa station(c)2004 Robert George