Writing Prompt #4: This is the voice of my body.

OK,
so today's prompt feels...poetic to me:
This is the voice of my body.
If I was listening to my own body today it would be saying,
"Man, is it ever hot!" LOL.

I may try something different though.
Here goes,
free writing for ten minutes,
absolutely no editing. :)

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Every night as I find my spot and I look out the door to see the moon scraping the sky I feel light like a balloon.  As if my desire to run and explore could lift me in the sky like a kite made of rags.  Then I feel the car move beneath my feet as the engine starts moving forward--this one is going west.  I like west.  Anywhere but right here is good for me.  I pull down the brim of my grimy cap and sit with my legs dangling over the side.  The rails seem to slide beneath my feet and before I know it the railway station is far behind me.  Trees loom around me looking like pale skeletons in the moonlight.  Deep in the pit of my stomach is a memory of being pushed on a swing.  The feeling at the top of my arc like I am weightless.  Flying over the land as the train eats up the distance I feel just like that.  If I close my eyes the thrumming of the engines seems to ooze into my bones--urging me onwards.  Thrum, thrum, thrum, my heart sings as the wind whips past me.  The train seems to sing just for me--it can no more stay in one station then I can stay in one town.  I can no longer sit in the open door as the train is moving fast.  I lift my eyes to the sky one last time, which seems to be the only stationary thing, unwilling tears forming at the corner of my eyes.  What was the song Mama would sing about flying?

Ah yes.
Just a few more weary days and then,
I'll fly away;
To a land where joy shall never end,
I'll fly away
I'll fly away.

I whistle the tune with a smile as I unroll my bedroll and prepare for sleep.  The movement of the train rocks me to sleep.

I'll fly away.