I followed the railroad home

with the wind and the earth beneath me and
the gilded stars dotted in the opaque sea
above, stars of pearl beads scattered 
across the floor, tied together 
with Mama’s old broken 

When I was 6 years old,
Mama and Pa took me to the lake
just four miles away from 
our home.

We’d drive up a tiny hillside
with the windows down,
the air sweet,
and we’d park near the golden pin oak