Truck Stop

by: Tracy Capello

Scraping the day off his face

the afternoon he knew

that some poor driver would

never again have to think about

the fastest way to get somewhere,

miss another shower or a meal

because of schedules, the lines

and the signs just blistering by,

listen to clacking wipers on a

greasy road, smell warm asphalt lots

paved with urine, fall off to sleep with a

clanking lullaby or some whore knocking,

he stopped to total the hours when

death could have come just as easily to him,

had it been his vein that burst on exit 29,

his truck flying over the rails and down a hill,

his wife waiting for his nightly call.

My Wife

by: Tony “Bulldog” Ramsey (This is a Poem I wrote for my wife while I was away from home and was missing her very much.

When I see the early morning sun caressing the dew-touched meadows,

I see my wife.

The mother of our child

Her love and understanding make our house a home.

She is my wife.

When the day’s been rough and the week’s been long,

I know I can go home to the loving arms of my wife.

Her beauty is only one of her many qualities.

That’s why I’m proud to call her my wife.