Little Red Dump Truck

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For some of us, visits to a nursing home present more than vacuous eyes and impaired bodies.

Little Red Dump Truck by Odin Roark How squeaky the wheels The hand propelled truck Of my youth Through bush and flower cover I pushed my dreams Shovel scooped some earth Loaded up the bed Pushed to the berry patch Dumped Watered Watched air bubbles As my load seeped into more earth Becoming oneness again How precious Those squeaks Now but echoed memories As I suck pureed peaches Through a straw And await the next hour To smile To crawl among the bushes again To play in just a bit more earth Before my nap

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