My Spot is Gone

The dozer came today.
I watched as it consumed my favorite spot.
I sat there for an hour...It didn't take long.
I could hear the mumbling
of unconcerned workers in the background.
They had been through this many times before.

The old gravel roads and the young saplings;
the mushroom hollers and the old pickup truck;
the plate of spilled beans...
all the things that we shared gave way to time.
I knew it would happen.
It hurt to watch, but I am glad I was there.

I had many good times at that old spot.
That spot guided me for over 50 years.
Not steering but just being there as a
mountain peak helps a hiker keep his bearings.

I went to that old spot many times.
It is hard to explain. I just sat there.
We knew each other.
The old spot had many problems these past few years,
but the comfort that was provided to me is forever.

©4/27/94 Steve Lunsford