I see it just like yesterday
With Dad behind the wheel,
Cruising over gravel roads
And how it made me feel

Destination Grandpa’s house
Sometimes uncles, too,
All of whom had farms to run
Where food and families grew

And on the way we’d pass a few
Cars and trucks and tractors,
Meandering at Sunday’s pace
No need for going faster

I’d raise my hand like Daddy did
And each of us would wave,
Acknowledging the driver
The kindness they’d repay

I loved that little gesture
And miss it where I am,
Fingers now are raised on high
And no one gives a damn

Aggression at my bumper
Anger on my right,
Police who just don’t bother
‘Cause they’ve got a bigger fight

It saddens me, I must admit
At city’s core and mine,
That basic human decency
Falls victim to the grind

Despite, I’m blessed that I was raised
To know a farmer’s code,
For when mankind wears on my soul
I seek a gravel road.

~ Leana Delle
Sunday, March 3, 2019
Number eight of fifty-two in my 2019 Sunday Poetry Challenge.