dust of dazed

the sun set, faster than the still lingering red dust and we could taste it. i write of this with eyes clamped shut thinking of every second spent in tennessee. i had breakfast with david deweiss and family, real grits for the first time. a bland mash of mixed up nonsense of the likes id never eat again. the tail gate dropped down hard, resting easy on rusted hinges. the catalytic converter drew a line of the past. the trucks been around and all over southside tennessee. those two gas stations might still be there but i never knew them to have gas, just inhabitants behind borded up windows with oil lamps stuck between here and there. i could picture a fire and smell the soot, feel the firetrucks wet glow a day or two later as strangers sift thru the ash of peoples belongings. some faded photographs and everything else important to no one else, diarys as bibles and the likings.  david was my cousins buddy. rancher by nature and backwoods before birth. its 1130pm there and now and im sure hes settled in somewhere settling. they had over one thousand acres when we were kids playing in the stream that ran thru their property. im sure his father, mister deweiss, left it all to him. hard works begets hard hard work. the truck was full of grain, sacks of it and needed to be unloaded before the weather lew in from the south west. its always the southwest and her name is jane. looked up, opened my eyes to see if... and no. the barn was listing, the timbers from a century ago and the farm stood tall and leaned a little in every aspect. who has time to fix these things when theres so much work to be done. summer break was never summer break and school should have ended at 6th grade for these souls because precalc never mattered when fences needed mending. your gloves or mine the snips wont work, grab the pliers and hurry up. grain off loaded and the humidity as annoying as the june bugs, the clock was beat as we kicked it in to high gear towards the river. pinnacle peak. a medium height bridge, some sorta southern rope swing and a big part of my youth.

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