From Miami To Fort Riley In 1966
...I remember a bus stop in the middle of
Actually it was a small two-pump gas station
with metal advertising signs all over the front
and an old Coke machine
with an out-of-order sign on it.
It was early evening,
and a storm was on the way,
sky churning gray,
wind picking up a bit,
and the stop was to pick up one passenger,
drop off a package,
and let the passengers stand in line
I went inside the station and found
an old general store sort of place,
complete with a cat curled by the rocker
over by the stove.
You could see the store was also home
for the old man and his daughter,
who served as the counter person
in case anyone wanted to buy something.
I watched her as she stood staring out the window,
staring at the bus,
longing in her eyes for anyplace else,
resignation in the slump of her shoulders
'cause no matter how much she wanted to ride that bus,
she knew she never would.
Where would she go?
How would she live there?
She had no answers...
she only had her dreams,-
but no fairy godmother
was likely to find her
in Nowhere, Oklahoma.
I boarded the bus
and the girl went back to her rocker.
Comments on this poem/writing:
|RinRin (220.127.116.11) -- Thursday, July 19 2007, 02:00 am|
This poem intrigues me...you seem to have the ability to take in what you see in everyday life and transform it into something meaningful - I like how you pay attention to details that someone else may miss. You give these details meaning as well, and a sense of being as if each detail has it's own story to tell...love it, love it! :)
|Tricia (18.104.22.168) -- Monday, July 23 2007, 01:41 am|
I completely agree with RinRin. I live close to ft riley been in ks my whole life basically so small towns are what im use to.
|shiloh (22.214.171.124) -- Sunday, August 26 2007, 06:17 am|
i appreciate your thoughts, rinrin, and while i have never thought about it, it just seems that unless i put in what i experience, then it isn't worth writing. and tricia - the only small towns i know of around riley are junction city or manhattan, and back then they were reached by train. peace.... hank
Click here to read other Poems by Shiloh
Copyright©2017-1999 by Rebecca R. Hammack
COPYRIGHT NOTICE: All Rights Reserved. No part of this website, including all pictures and written words, may be reproduced or copied in any manner from this website without permission of the original author of the work. All poetry and pictures herein remain the sole property of the original author and/or copyright owner. All poetry on this website has been submitted by the original author of the work. To contact any author of the work please e-mail: email@example.com so the proper person may be notified.