Tennessee Lessons
We're on a trip to Tennessee
Before new highways came to be
The winding state routes take us there
I'm hoping we will see a bear
My father says the dirt is red
I don't believe the words he said
How could the dirt be red not brown
I ponder this as my lips frown
The trip is long the hours drag
Our sweaty bodies start to sag
Then I whoop as a sign I see
It reads "Welcome to Tennessee"
And then I can't believe my eyes
"The dirt is red!" I cry surprised
My father chuckled at my shock
Then he points out a circling hawk
Dad is quick to see critters bound
My head snaps to see what he found
A groundhog nibbles by the road
Across the state route bounds a toad
An owl sits on a bare tree limb
A cat peeks from a trash can rim
I never know what we will see
But Dad's sharp eyes adds to my glee
A mountain road makes my eyes pop
For at road edge is quite a drop
Town buildings below look so small
The thought of fall makes my skin crawl
Onto a narrow road we turn
I see sights that make my heart churn
Houses sided with newspaper
Results of a teenage caper?
Cereal boxes side a wall
Makes my mind go into a stall
Homes are patched with large metal sheets
"Why?" I ask with a naive bleat
"I guess they used what they could find
You make do when you're in a bind
Maybe that's all they could afford"
Daddy's words struck an inner cord
A lesson taught on our side trip
Something inside me did a flip
I would never forget that day
Desperation will find a way
Back to the state route with a turn
For many miles black tires churn
The state park sign is up ahead
We find park lodge which holds our beds
Our eyes go wide at rustic view
My aunts and uncles, cousins too
The lodge setup for scout retreat
And all rooms have floors of concrete
The barracks split by common room
And rows of bunk beds line bedroom
The girls on left and boys on right
Children delight a novel sight
The fireplace in common room
Will chase away the nighttime gloom
Couches circle the fireplace
A place to sit and slow life's pace
In room's middle is where we dine
Bare wood chairs and tables of pine
A large kitchen at end of room
We all hope tasty meals will bloom
Rustic lodge sits by a lake
A fishing jaunt I hope to take
Some rented rowboats are our lot
We need to row to fishing spot
Rowboats they make our fishing fun
A quiet transport under sun
We return with a mess of fish
String of catfish, bass and sunfish
All fried up for our dinner's meal
The fish lovers dive in with zeal
After dinner we play card games
We play until exhaustion claims
Our bed blankets are made of wool
The buyer must have been a fool
Barracks are hot from heat outside
I changed my mind upon sunrise
In the mountains the nights are cold
I realized I was naive fool
Glad wool blanket was on my bed
Pull warm blanket over my head
My cousin taught card game of hearts
Then we noticed her counterpart
Almost always she won each game
Counting cards was her private fame
Uncle fell out of a rowboat
He tried to sneak back in lodge soaked
He fell from boat pulled up on shore
The sad guy's story made us roar
We played a trick on all our kin
We snagged in weeds we said with grin
A record bass hung on clothes line
We had some fun for a short time
But then we told kin the whole tale
We snagged dead bass in weeds by tail
Tis true he did not give much fight
But still big bass was quite a sight
After a week of play and fun
And all our stories had been spun
We packed our bags and headed home
So glad to see our private dome
I learned a little about life
How others live with daily strife
My life may be a modest fare
But others dream to reach this stair
© Copyright 2018 by Cleomez (all rights reserved)
Bạn đang đọc truyện trên: AzTruyen.Top