Sudden Stop On The Merrit
Traveling the scenic road, built in the thirties,
Trip is going well, trees and blue sky all around.
Thinking of days of yester year, of Packard’s of Studebaker’s and Hudson’s…
Wonderment accompanies the drive, smoothly, swiftly…
Sudden stop, traffic still, no movement.
Open the window, bright sun pours on my face,
Looking with a soft gaze, seeing trees and foliage,
The smell of spice has filled the air,
It is the spice of the woods, the woods of childhood…
Ahead and behind, cars.
To the side there is a tempting darkness,
The fading of daylight as the eyes ponder the woods,
What if a break was made, a turning to the side?
Will the thirties be found in these woods?
Should I pull the F150 over?
I will saunter through the dry leaves
I think if I just keep going west without turning back
I may find that these are not ordinary trees.
This could very well be my escape.
The smell of spice is getting ever stronger…
I can hear the sound of dogs trotting,
I know these dogs I am sure of it.
West through the woods,
I think that is the move for me,
Missing the past, pining for innocent days,
Why would I not pull over?
If you smelled the spice, you would…
You too would know,
These are not ordinary trees…
These woods are holding my dogs
The ones I grew up with,
Spice, west, childhood…
Joseph James 10-2-10
© From "O the Elms"
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