And Then There Are Days Like Today...

Yesterday, I worked 14.25 hours. On the drive home from Eugene, there was an accident requiring Life Flight. Seemed to be great entertainment for the masses as many chose to remain piled in a bunch just to get a look as well as folks parking and walking out on the overpass.

This delayed me enough to hit the worst of the daily traffic in Portland. I was so exhausted, I got home, showered, and fell asleep waiting for Rhonda to return from her visit with Eli.

When I go to Eugene, it is constant work until lunch, when I nap so I don't get the nods on the way home and drive off the road or run into another vehicle and possibly requiring Life Flight, etc.

And then there are days like today.

I got to Fred Meyer Tigard, my 4th drop, and had to wait for an hour and 40 minutes before their doors opened. During that time I wrote a poem [to follow], thought many good thoughts about Rhonda, thought about how Yeti took a flying leap at me when I closed the door before he could get out, thought about work, possibilities of moving, picking huckleberries today.


I saw this sign and just had to take a picture.

I thought this sign was funny, compared to the racist signs we've been seeing around town.

And then, of course, later in the day, I did indeed "bump ahead." It just happened to be mine. Always remember to push the roll up door on the back of the truck ALL THE WAY UP when unloading.

Here is the poem, with accompanying photo taken shortly after its writing.



A SUNRISE ON ANOTHER DAY OF WORK

I sit here
in a truck
on an asphalt parking lot
not far from the earth
always far from the earth.

The sun will rise soon
and work will continue
in its metre,
an attempt to steal this life
as its own
an extracted human resource
to be discarded
without a second glance
when my usefulness
TO THEM
is done.

The sun will rise soon
on the cloudy horizon
over manicured trees
and landscaping
parking lots
asphalt roads and buildings
not far from the earth
always far from the earth.

Although I'm tired
my heart is strong.
This is just temporary
a survival necessity
depending on how one
defines
survival.

And what is to come
as I feel the earth tremble
from traffic
and change?
Always close by,
never far away.

I cannot predict the future...
the future belongs to
ALL OF US!