Archie

it did not fill much space

although it was a place

filled up the usual​​ 

joys and aches​​ 

of life that go with​​ 

a small town outside

the usual routes

there was the lunch shack

that was up on the curve

just out of town

looking as if it fell off

a truck going too fast

down old 71 and just

landed along the road

a little off center and a little

out of square

with a swinging screen door

and 4 tables

and the best tenderloin​​ 

sandwiches south of Kansas City

and a cook with a cough

that left any visitor wondering

what they got besides food

but we never got sick

and we always went back.

there was the drug store

with its 2 aisles​​ of various

remedies and treatments

and a freezer

case of ice cream treats.

the grocery store was on the corner

and featured a double door

and linoleum well worn past

new. ​​​​ If you were a little short

this week, you could leave a charge

on a ticket and stop by later to​​ 

get it paid. ​​ People paid in​​ 

cash or eggs never needing

any plastic card to fulfill their needs.

the bank was at the other end

of the block with its old oak

panels and barred windows

reminiscent of the days

of Bonnie and Clyde although

they never came by near as anyone

knew or could recall.

the old depot sat smack

between a rail siding and

the one railroad line running

through town.

the station master was only​​ 

in the office on some days

or whenever there was some

freight being dropped at the siding

most days, the train just passed on​​ 

through and it wasn’t many years

until that all ended and

the train came through a couple

times per day and no longer made

any effort to slow down; just​​ 

choosing to blow its horn

as a kind of​​ warning to move

out of the way and let​​ 

the world pass at a high

rate of speed. ​​​​ it was that

train that crushed the Mossan

boy one day when he just forgot

about it and took his truck​​ 

headed home and met 500 tons

of freight going 100 miles an hour.

Dean walked the streets like

a guard watching over his

ward but really he was

just a 7 yr old boy in a​​ 

40 yr old body and nobody

minded and what he guarded

looked over him as well.

the old grain elevator stood

like a sentinel along side the

railroad siding marking the​​ 

place and anchoring it to​​ 

the outside world through its

buying and selling and its way​​ 

of providing all the local boys

a rite of passage to manhood as

each successive generation took its

turn on the cob pile forking cobs

to the very end of the pile

the winds blew down the main street

carrying a tumble weed

from time to time and picking

up the dust of the dry summers

too hot for most folk midday

the dust from the elevator making​​ 

a fog more dense than any that

San Francisco could dream of

with colorful pools of light made

by the bare bulbs of the driveways

or the headlights of old trucks​​ 

bringing whatever crop the ground

had brought forth that season and​​ 

ready to be traded in for cash or credit

making another year possible on this

earth.

The men as dirty and sweaty as a human

body came be spending all day in the hot

fog of grain dust pitting their very strength

and lungs against a foe that was unrelenting

and unforegiving.

breathing air that was 1 part oxygen to 4 parts

dirt, they never complained or asked for​​ 

help for this is how the work got done​​ and​​ 

how the bills got paid and the kids sent off to​​ 

college so that they would never have to do​​ 

this work but who would also never have

the memory of the cold water being splashed on a face that had changed colors

and the shirts and pants and socks so filthy that

they could not be taken into the house; had to be left in the garage or on the porch after work

leaving them to run to the shower in underwear just as sweat soaked.

on Friday nights the town gathered at the​​ 

high school gym and watched the farm boys

play basketball like it had been invented for them; stretching muscles that had worked all​​ week ​​ and were ready to spring higher and faster than any of their opponents and so the team was the pride and the joy and the hope fo the whole town. ​​ A group of young men carrying the hopes of the whole place to be something more; something beyond the daily grind.