The train horn that is blaring in a distance is of such urgency not a soul could miss it,

The foggy lights racing up the track in the dead of the night,

I watch as I drink my warm, stale, Bud light.

The horn blaring sounds so old,

The coldness in the air doesn’t make much of a difference,

But the bare trees and snow beneath me seem to make the train horn seem so close, yet distant.

I remember ...

Everything surrounding me seems so cozy..

The wind that’s blowing,

I swear it chose me,

The whispers from it I hear,

Gives me familiarity and cheer.

Backpack on my back, sneakers soggy,

Cellphone reception nonexistent,

Friends and family in a distance.

This is my breakaway,

No one can call me..

living off the land,

I don’t need a helping hand.

The persistence I have to be a better me,

I fe...