Printer Friendly

On the Road.

 My father knew of a store on the highway where they sold good
bologna so we stopped there--what is better than a working man on
vacation?
 It was better than it should be, all of it: the road and the car, the
land rolling by the windows, buckskin horses small in the great hot
field,
the shine of my young mother's hand cutting the bologna with a
jackknife, the tips of her fingers placing a circle of meat on the
cracker, placing a crumble of cheese,
a woman laughing, a man in love, driving, his mouth open, his tongue
receiving the wafer from her hand. 
COPYRIGHT 2007 University of Nebraska Press
No portion of this article can be reproduced without the express written permission from the copyright holder.
Copyright 2007 Gale, Cengage Learning. All rights reserved.

Article Details
Printer friendly Cite/link Email Feedback
Publication:Prairie Schooner
Article Type:Poem
Date:Jun 22, 2007
Words:135
Previous Article:From Her White Knuckles.
Next Article:Paradise on the Niobrara.

Terms of use | Privacy policy | Copyright © 2018 Farlex, Inc. | Feedback | For webmasters