Wednesday, September 21, 2011

Poem: Truck Memories

 Truck Memories

Your grandfather drove such a truck,
and seeing it now
sweeps the past into the moment
and for a moment you are ten years old again,
watching his rough capable hands
shift the gears, a satisfying
click with each gear signaling
the simple mechanics
of getting from one place
to another without distraction,
able to focus
not on buttons and technology,
but the September high corn, green still
with golden tassels,
on your own past joys,
on lessons learned by life's weather,
the sureness that nearly every complication
your life has,
has nothing to do with richness,
or memory,
or forever.


The picture was taken as the Consider Barnwell farm, not far from me in West Pawlet where they make the most delicious gourmet cheeses, all named after towns near here in Vermont.

My grandfather really did have such a truck. Riding in it as a boy is one of my fondest memories, ever. 

You can click on the picture for a larger version.


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