My song will rest while I rest. I struggle along. I’ll get back to the corn and the open fields.
Don’t fret, love, I’ll come out all right.
Back of Chicago the open fields. Were you ever there
Trains coming toward you out of the West. Streaks of light on the long gray plains?
Many a song aching to sing.
I’ve got a gray and ragged brother in my breast that’s a fact.
Back of Chicago the open fields long trains go west too in the silence.
Don’t fret, love. I’ll come out all right.
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Published by Ray Calabrese
I am an optimistic, can do, and never quit guy. The spirit of hope indelibly marks my DNA. My research at The Ohio State University helped people discover the best in themselves and change their personal lives, public organizations, and whole communities. I bring the same spirit and enthusiasm to my blog to help those who grieve who find themselves suddenly alone, navigate their grieving. Join my more than 24,300Twitter (@alwaysgoodstuff). I promise my tweets are always good stuff. Please feel free to email me at email@example.com.
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