Little Red Dump Truck

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