There Is a Place
Not crowded, nearly desolate,
there is a place where big dog’s roam,
pick-up trucks sit around,
where young and old, stop and go,
and good ole’ boys chew the fat.
Old houses sit in silence,
sagging from age and emptiness.
Railroad tracks busted and rusted,
And an old barn turned movie theater,
long since taken down,
nothing more than a shallow memory,
where overgrown weeds and bush grass,
have taken root for time eternal.
But the store is still there.
In another lifetime,
Gas pumps stood tall at five cents a gallon.
soda pop was a nickel,
and Grandma lit up the place,
as Granddaddy made sure everyone got a fair shake.
The building structure in white,
was the happening place.
Whatever you needed,
But one thing about this place
money could never buy;
the sense of simply being.
Today, the building,
housed in flaked paint, rotted boards,
no gas pumps,
and business, sparse;
stands in the middle of the past.
Yet, like all years past,
it holds a place in unknown history.
where pick-up trucks stop,
good ole’ boys chew the fat,
and you feel you still belong.
(The piece is based on the photo above
though closed, the store still stands)