EYES

My grandfather’s ’65 Falcon

split the summer heat when

I was sixteen and he let me help

drive home to Florida from his

Wisconsin cottage on the lake.

Made me feel important.

There weren’t any interstates

back then, just two-lane highways

marked by a confusing array of 

signs where highways ran together

in every American town square,

finally branching off to just the

one we wanted out there in

the rural countryside.

There were farms with

See Rock City painted on the

roofs of barns between signs for

Clabber Girl Baking Powder and

Red Man Chewing tobacco,

mom and pop motels,

and car dealers.

We were tired, cramped and

peckish when we came to that

immaculate, Alabama farm.

The old man in coveralls and his

family tended a roadside fruit

stand in front of manicured pastures

with white fences, white barns

and outbuildings trimmed in deep,

rich green.

We stopped to stretch our legs

and look at the little baskets

laid out in neat rows, filled with

corn, squash, beans and fat,

juicy peaches.

I got lost as I studied my favorite

fruit, basket by basket before

I looked up into her ice-blue eyes

framed by soft, black hair and set 

in skin the very pink of the peach

in my hand…

our glances met…

eyes stunned, lips parted

Shy… but thunder-and-lightening

in love.

We looked quick away

and down, amazed

that capricious fate

would play such a

trick on us.

I ate my peach slow, and let

the juice roll down my chin

as I walked backward to the

car longing for something more.

To this day,I wonder her name and 

dream what might have been.

Reviews

[Lorry]

Those almost contacts you never quite forget and keep playing in the oddest of moments through your life in memories what if jukebox.
I remember falling in love with a waitress every Sunday after visiting grandpa and it never even crossed my mind that she was at least a teenager and I was probably stretching the truth slightly by saying I was almost 8 😊
These days it would mean our fantasy life together would have no doubt involved a register of some kind, but back in the seventies, I never realised the weirdness it would have led to for her, having to explain to everyone why her husband wore shorts and was still in primary school! 😊
Back then, it never even crossed my mind that she probably said "hiya handsome" to every guy, in the hope of a bigger tip, or the fact I could only smile and act dumb in front of her, as I never even heard of such a thing as a chat up line, and I seriously doubt she was impressed with my skill at slurping a knickerbocker glory in record speed might not be what gets a girl going... but at that age it was all I had and all I remember of her now that her name was Alice, unless she was wearing someone else's name tag and that she was indeed the owner of the most beautiful smile in the world tag.
I've been back to that diner now that I'm all growed up and am happy that it's still an old school style cafe that modernity has left alone thankfully, but not a sight of the lovely Alice and I was brought back to earth with a jolt when the waitress scowled at me "what do ya want?" in a way that probably meant she had no idea what customer service was and probably had to tip the customers as they left. 😊
Ahh, happy days. Thanks for the time travel journey back to my youth Vol, where chocolate bars were massive and ten pence made you rich. 😊

[Vol]

Lorry,
OH! What a fine account... little narratives such as this are second only to poetry... packed with beauty and meaning, something to read in a comfortable chair just before bedtime. Thank you, man!
Vol

[Fran Marie]

That was some road trip having an intense
encounter with such deep emotions from
just one glance ..one can imagine the scene
in this well crafted poem I remember seeing
Burma shave signs on the country roads in Ky
and Ohio. .like the closing lines.you were smitten
Nicely conveyed.....

I ate my peach slow, and let
the juice roll down my chin
as I walked backward to the
Car longing for something more.

[Vol]

Fran,
Thank you for your nice commentary
Ah...
"If you don't know
whose signs these are
you can't have driven
very far
Burma Shave"
The essence of two lane highways or, as Tolkien said:
Roads go ever ever on,
Over rock and under tree,
By caves where never sun has shone,
By streams that never find the sea;
Over snow by winter sown,
And through the merry flowers of June,
Over grass and over stone,
And under mountains in the moon.

But it's not the road, it is the adventure, Rather a blue-eyed Siren, than thunderstorms, construction delays, wrecks, or ogres... actually, I want them all, otherwise there is no grand old story to tell...
Vol

[Beccy]

Ah yes, those 'might have beens,' how we garner them on the way and how deeply imprinted do they become in our memory.

It's like when we wonder, what if I had turned right instead of left? How different things might have been.

My son Charlie is turning seventeen in two weeks time and he has already applied for his provisional driving licence. Shame I can't promise him a drive in a 65 Falcon, he's already car mad.

Beccy.

[Vol]

Beccy,
I know2 right, so many possibilities, and we get stuck with reality...
Good luck with your son...
Vol

[Neville]

Thoroughly enjoyed from one end to tother sir .. and made me smile no end too .. you also reminded me of the time I hired a car in New Orleans and just drove .. met a girl in Baton Rouge & we talked music .. funny thing she had never heard of the Beatles .. we shared an apple and then we went our separate ways .. never gonna forget her eyes either .. Neville

[Vol]

Neville,
Ah, Sweet days of innocence...
Vol

[W. Barrett Munn]

I remember those see rock city signs but more so the signs out west for Jackrabbit Arizona. But it is so true that gobsmacked is an event of the eyes.

Winston

[Vol]

Winston,
Tis True!
Vol