Trip to Pomeroy – for d’Verse

Published July 26, 2017 by Nan Mykel

Middle-aged bleached me

in  a used yellow Gremlin

heading up Route 7

on Woden’s Day,

slow truck in font,

burdened,  toting

sixteen logs that slip

toward the front, inside

their iron chains,

sixteen logs from the forest,

leaving 16 stumps behind.

At 8:20 a.m.  on

May 5, nineteen eighty-two,  in

Appalachia, decade

of Brooke Shields,

Century of Ann  Frank,

millenium of St. Joan,

a mud-spattered Ohio

license hangs beneath

rough-cut faces

of former trees,

somewhere, pressed

between yesterday and

tomorrow on the long

journey to the mill.

 

 

14 comments on “Trip to Pomeroy – for d’Verse

  • I’m with you, Nan, ‘heading up Route 7’! Your poem is cinematic, like an old movie they show on television in the afternoons. Great use of verbs in ‘burdened’ and ‘toting’ and you’ve really conveyed the movement of the ‘sixteen logs that slip’. And I love those final lines, like a close-up of the mud-spattered Ohio license… pressed between yesterday and tomorrow’.

    Like

  • This is quite wonderful! I especially love how you’ve delineated the time here….and described the plight of these logs on their long final journey to the mill. Well done. Can also be read metaphorically….at least for me. 🙂

    Like

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