05.05.16
hitching to the mission…
hitching to the mission…
grabbed a seat in a truck on the interstate…
next to half-baled hay near a loose tailgate…
a farmer drove heading to market in town…
with a brood of young peeps and a sleepy old hound…
tall mountains behind me stood shrinking in size…
and so did my squint as full sun hit these eyes…
gust from the roadside rushed stealing the wind…
and reached out to rip off the hat i sat in…
worn treads below me squeezed into a roll…
their uneven squeaks strumming into a lull…
chirps from late chicks huddled under a tarp…
drew up like music from stray muffled harps…
branches on bushes brushed close to one side…
touching bright shadows that trailed my ride…
had been on the road for a couple of days…
in a few different lanes cruising busy highways…
was hoping to get to the mission by dark…
for a bath and a cot where new road dust could park…
a bowl of warm soup would soon comfort this belly…
and luck might show up with hard crust under jelly…
but drool on my lips quickly slipped off in thuds…
as tires tripped into a ditch of dried mud…
jostled and juggled and tossed upside down…
this truckbed of squatters flung onto the ground…
chirps leaped to squawks in a heap of deep yellow…
as i focused my sight for the old farmer fellow…
a tail stood wagging against my cut hand…
and behind it two boots ‘neath torn cuffs on patched pants…
the farmer leaned over and asked how i was…
i blurted “okay” as i picked myself up…
we glanced at each other and scouted the scene…
then started to round up stirred chicks in between…
got ‘em packed in their boxes and back on the road…
but the farmer’s leg hurt so he headed for home…
sharp stabs grabbed his foot as he asked me to drive…
then he slid to his right while i took the farside…
he muttered directions and short stories too…
of some high points and low blows his legs scuttered through…
in no time at all we pulled into his farm…
and onto bare dirt at the door of his barn…
we uncrated those chicks then he asked me to stay…
to help a few days ‘til his pain wore away…
i gave him an answer before i could speak…
and that mission would just have to wait for next week…
soon a plateful and cup soothed my two-day-old hunger…
and a few meals later i felt several years younger…
months passed as the farmer added onto his crew…
giving a couple more hands something useful to do…
last night after supper the farmer declared…
that thanks to great help this old ranch has been spared…
we talked about missions that start on the road…
and how sometimes a hitch is worth more than its load!…
… 🙂