Winding Down
After four decades of riding the rails
of my classroom, running full speed
on electric wheels,
I am no longer
an engine that could.
Instead, I am
a single car, gray, slow of breath,
low on charge.
I chug forward.
Some mornings I’m a little locked
in gear.
My windows need scrubbing.
My upholstery steaming.
Tree branches reach out
to push me along
after delivering loads of teens
to their destinations.
I call out to the stars,
those tiny pinpricks,
to light my way
in this upcoming year,
to help me reach
my next station--
my retired husband
already there.
Author: Nancy Manning
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