Poem #82: Off the Highway

Off the Highway

Sad old rusty truck 

drops off the highway,

Right turn onto smooth blacktop

Smelling of tar,

In every direction waves of grass

Ripple in the wind,

Clouds of dust, circling hawk,

Silver-faced black dog barks 

From a porch,

Fierce heat, screen doors,

Bleached laundry on the lines,

Sawdust floors, baseball games

Where lights are dimmed, slightly,

By thick clouds of flying insects,

Pie and coffee at the Kountry Kettle,

Settle the bill, crickets sing,

Right turn off the smooth, 

Blacktop road, smelling of tar.

(c) 2013, by Hannah Six

Poem #82: Off the Highway