From where I stand, the memories flow
To the little old lady by the railroad track
Picking up little bits and pieces of coal
To take home to her tumble down shack....
None of us knew her, she was the silent type
But we could have been kinder, this I know
We could have helped her in the failing light
She walked with a limp and moved so slow....
But what did we do, we strapping young men
Standing on the trestle with our mocking jokes
If only I could somehow return back to then
I like to think I would be kinder to such folks....
To the little old lady by the railroad track,
If you could hear me today, this I would say:
I did you wrong, I should have gone back
And gathered the anthracite for you that day....
Little pieces of ebony, falling from the train
Small jewels of warmth for a cold winter day
A saying about sand, about every single grain
Runs through my mind, then slips slowly away....
From where I stand, I am back in the times
When neighbors helped each other willingly
I wish I had the talent to convey it in rhymes
As the cold winter wind blows so chillingly....
