POEMS FOR MY TRUCKER HUSBAND

Written on those Lonely Nights

The pride of the fleet, the envy of the LIE

Her shiny green paint and sparkling chrome made her the talk of the highway

She was Cowboy's Caddilac to the regulars on the strip from Southampton to

Queens

The sight of her once brought CB chatter,

And when she stopped crowds of drivers would gather

They gather today, but the chatter is gone,

Replaced with silence as they think of what could have been

They shake their heads and turn away

Today, her crumpled body sits twisted on the yard

Her 475 horses are quiet, her trailer punctured

The cab where he once sat high flattened

The Glass through which he once viewed the road shattered and stained with blood

Blood from where his hand was slashed as they pulled him through it when she

didn't want to let him go as she fought to hold on to her pilot, her driver, her friend

Cowboy sits now, he sits and he stares

The physical pain is gone, but the pain inside lingers

He holds his children a little tighter, his wife a little longer

He knows he shouldn't be here at all, but somehow, something made him look over his shoulder

at just the right time.

Tomorrow he will visit her perhaps,

Disconnect the CB, gather his tools, his maps

He thinks about the cup of coffe that was on the dash,

and hopes it didn't spill onto her leather seats

What a strange thing to think of now when she heads for her grave

Cowboy will ride again,

in another chariot

Perhaps not as pretty,

But her memory will stay with him

Till he drives her again in another time