Every month, for several years, I’ve written little poems. Mostly about our trucking lives, in eighteen-wheeled homes. I’m really not a poet, I just like to pass the time. Telling little stories, in a way that makes them rhyme. Sometimes people ask me, how I think of things to write. I guess I’d have to say, it’s lots of windshield time at night. Sometimes I write funny things, to let the poem tell a joke. Other times I rhyme about, a time my heart’s been broke. I also like to parody, an old familiar song. I’ll change the words to something else, and try to sing along. I’ve written about depression, and the loss of my ol’ man. I’ve written about the highways, from Savannah to Spokane. I like writing poems, about the stories I’ve been told. By other drivers I have met, and veterans of the road. I’ll repeat a comment, or a lyric in my head. And try to think of something, that will rhyme with what was said. It isn’t always easy, but it’s not that difficult. And I ain’t always satisfied, with every end result. I prefer the kind that rhyme, I’ve never tried free-verse. Otherwise my cheesy poems, would likely come out worse! But here I go, my first attempt, a new approach this time. I hope you like my free-verse poem, the kind that doesn’t rhyme. Thanks to Shannon Royce for the perfect picture.
JUST PASSING THRU…
By Trevor Hardwick
The wind. The rain. The fields of gold.
The miles of painted lines.
The highline poles. The little towns.
I’ve seen them all. I notice them.
But do they notice me?
The fact that I have seen them,
Should imply that I was there.
I WAS there. I’m there again.
I take a look around.
The birds. The bees. Flowered trees.
The travelers, to and fro.
The billboard signs. The painted lines.
The river and the rail.
I see them as I pass them by.
Or are they passing me?
I pass them by with good intent,
To pass this way, again.
But hands of time will pass me by,
And care not that I’m here.
They leave their mark upon me.
They can’t leave without a trace.
Am I just passing time?
Or is time just passing me?
A passing thought.
Just passing through.
