Trip to Pomeroy – for d’Verse

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.

 

 

About Nan Mykel

At 79, I was just about to stop keeping a journal, but that felt like accepting that growth was finished. I don't want to be finished, yet! I'm 80 now, and struggling to communicate with you, if you'll come and set awhile. P.S. My how time flies! I'm 82 now.
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14 Responses to Trip to Pomeroy – for d’Verse

  1. kim881 says:

    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

  2. A beautiful poem Nan!

    Like

  3. Frank Hubeny says:

    Nice measurements of time with hour and minute, decade, century and millenium all observed from one’s own “middle age” starting off the poem.

    Like

  4. lillian says:

    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

  5. colorfulpen says:

    Love the imagery in this. Especially: a mud-spattered Ohio license hangs beneath rough-cut faces of former trees. Nice write!

    Like

  6. lovely tale. My husband has always been a driver and we have had some strange accidents…like the logs..and all the worry and chaos that comes with these things. A good story and lovely descriptions. XX

    Like

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