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Donation – 2

A much improved product – thanks to Deb, my favorite critic 🙂



I stand and watch as they winch her up
in spite of sunshine and flowers on the porch
I see her in winter, crossing Nevada and Wyoming
hauling a load of regrets, and a few scraps of my lost life
east into the unknown

Some of those Wasatch passes were so steep
the snow piled so high on either side
I gripped the wheel, knuckles white
wondering if we would make it to the top

She never let me down
slowing for the climb, but not stopping
she carried that heavy load of sorrow
across desert land and bleak winter prairie

Now her glass is cracked, her heater dead
her doors leak in the wind and rain,
and rust has begun to show through her paint
so it is time for her to go where old trucks go

Nineteen is a lot of years for a little pickup
or a man


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