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Old Ford

They found it hidden at a dead end
beneath the cutoff county bridge,
past the gravel road that runs along
stretches of soybeans and
wandering Iowa skies.

It looked as if it had traveled some
rugged miles,
rust blooming from every side, tires worn,
sooty, while letters on the
back of the dented tailgate
simply read: O D.

Maybe thirty years old, they thought,
probably'd seen a few wild days, but never knew
a home
as it rattled from shore to salty shore
enduring rain, sleet, and the hellbent
heat of the sun.

It gave a hard, coarse creak
as they opened the driver's door,
a sound real close to
heartache.
And when they saw him lying on
the bench seat, arms tucked across his chest,

eyes forever settled into the
torn cloth of the ceiling
and beyond,
they figured he'd had a wild life, too,
until those lonesome rugged miles,
and that last setting sun

finally led him home,
leaving an invisible road
back to his beginning.

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing stage: 
Content level: 
Not Explicit Content

Comments

That this is a really good piece. I love the way you put the lines and the language use. It brought to mind the the '88 Ranger my dad always drove growing up. Great work!

Thank you very much for reading and commenting! I always appreciate it!
L

author comment

I could see the old Ford parked at its final destination and was thinking what a neat restoration project! To breathe life back into something that needs a little TLC to get its spark back and then the discovery of its owner, who had passed away with his old treasure. Old cars are much like people. A little extra care goes a long way. Another fantastic story within your words. I really get so much out of your writing. Well done!

~RoseBlack~

I was driving when this poem started percolating in my head. Have no idea where it came from. I'm sure you know exactly what I mean. I'm glad you understood the relationship between truck and owner.
Thank you, as always, for reading and sharing!
L

author comment

Enjoyed your poem very much. Old car, old thoughts bring to mind things that are not always visible

Thank you for reading and commenting!
Always appreciated!
L

author comment

A good read as always Lavender. Your poems hit a chord with me. Your description of the truck, I think about vehicles all the time when I drive by a yard that has a rusting body of a vehicle, I wonder what history it has Keep up the good work

I tried to associate the life of the truck with the life of its owner - both with an invisible road to the past. Dunno...
Thank you for reading, and sharing your encouragement!
L

author comment

What edits have you made to this poem.

I changed "sitting" to "hidden" in the first line. Small and simple, but I think it added some depth to the invisible theme.
Thank you!
D

author comment

Yes, I think so.
Great poem

I appreciate your time and thoughts!
Have had the dreaded Covid - felt horrible since Saturday, but now only mildly dysfunctional.
Thanks, again,
L

author comment

I enjoyed your free verse story poem very much. Your first stanza drew me in immediately as you beautifully described the setting of something found that was apparently lost/invisible and/or hidden for quite sometime in a desolate Iowa landscape. You must be very familiar with the “in medias res” writing technique in a narrative work as you appear to start in the middle of your storyline to get your reader hooked. Very effective I must say as I see this technique used many times by the greater novelists. Your story poem is full of wonderful imagery and imagination. I can tell that you are a skilled writer. I was curious what the “OD” initials stood for on the old truck’s tailgate or if it had no particular significance. If you wish not to answer that, I understand as some descriptors are written by writers just to tantalize the reader’s imagination. Thank you again for this lovely and spellbinding poetic prose submission. Many blessings.

Thank you for your very kind words! Being a writer, you probably have had moments when a poem or story came to you, and then you simply spread it out on paper - it almost writes itself. That was the case here. The O D on the back of the dented truck had a two-fold meaning, but it sounds like it wasn't quite clear so I may need to rework it. It's a Ford truck and the letters F and R were battered and dented so badly they were not legible. The cause of death of the driver is also unknown, and the O D hinted to me that there may have been the sad possibility of an overdose. Thank you, again, for your comments!
I appreciate the time you spent reading this!
L

author comment

Thank you for the clarification. Yes … I figured the “OD” was part of the Ford brand name but was not quite sure what other message you were trying to relay with those specific two letters in your piece. Your “overdose” explanation makes perfect sense for a clue as to the demise of the truck’s driver. This is a wonderful story poem. I enjoyed reading it very much.

this is so lovely. your imagery is beautiful and i love the story this poem tells. brilliant!!

<3

I'm grateful that you stopped by! Thank you for reading!
L

author comment

Thank you so much.

Haunting and wonderful write L! Congrats on the contest win!

Best

Michael Anthony

Thank you so much!
Take care!
L

author comment

I am them so sorry that I havn't written in reply. Your poem reminds me of the elderly who live to be so old that even in thier
small towns their commuities forget them. They become invisible, war heroes, mayors, doctors and everyone who lives to a good/bad old age.

The power of our language can and will change the world.
Successively until our languages become one!

You have made a very relatable connection. Thank you for sharing your thoughts!
L

author comment

I really enjoyed everything about the poem. It was so rich in description.

The power of our language can and will change the world.
Successively until our languages become one!

I really enjoyed everything about the poem. It was so rich in description.

The power of our language can and will change the world.
Successively until our languages become one!

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