That old blue truck
Smelling of dad
Grease and petrol, not overwhelming
Just the way things should be
The Blue Mountains spread out before and behind
The pass inclined severely ahead
As far as the eyes could see
Yellow and red lights glared their displeasure at the moon
Safe as the smell, safe as the feel of dad’s presence, not vulnerable, secure
The safety of the road a figment, not real
The road lied, the truckers didn’t
Black ice as far as the eyes could see
Red and yellow warning the unwary
Chris McQueeney 10/27/11 8:07AM
Thank you all for the comments. I need to find a Better way to reply, if I do it from my phone it goes as an email, from my computer I have to jump through hoops like this wasn't my own blog. Oh well, such is life. That pass, and that truck have special meaning to me. looking back I can see how scary it should have been, but at the time all I felt was safe, and sad. Sad because yet again I was having to leave my true home, and the security of my father. That eight hour drive would be the last I would see of him for about four months.
Thank you all for the comments. I need to find a Better way to reply, if I do it from my phone it goes as an email, from my computer I have to jump through hoops like this wasn't my own blog. Oh well, such is life. That pass, and that truck have special meaning to me. looking back I can see how scary it should have been, but at the time all I felt was safe, and sad. Sad because yet again I was having to leave my true home, and the security of my father. That eight hour drive would be the last I would see of him for about four months.
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