Rural Drive

This week’s word is:

1: affected by or as if by rust; especially : stiff with or as if with rust
2: inept and slow through lack of practice or old age
3a : of the color rust  

  b : dulled in color or appearance by age and use
4: outmoded
5: hoarse, grating
On a split moment decision, I filled the car up
Starting driving toward Grand Pappy’s farm
Hadn’t seen those tawny fields
where I learned to ride my first horse, Venus,
going on eight years now
Tires left the paved road to turn on gravels
that winded up to the hacienda 
Autumn leaves red, orange, and yellow
covered most of the driveway
 On the hillside beside the farmhouse
stood the old rusty barn, where Venus
and Jupiter were born
Stepping out to look around, the estate 
sure was run down, white paint chipping from
the side of the home’s wood
The coppery-brown barn had once shone
a cardinal red, golden weeds owned the garden,
everything had been touched by time and age
On my way back to my apartment in the city,
I wondered why I didn’t sell the place
Besides missing the smell of fall in the country,
I had come back with no more answers
nor anymore questions, other than the ones kept buried
deep inside when I leaned Grand Pappy was dead

@ donetta sifford 6-25-2013  


5 responses

  1. I love the description of the horses, the barn and the farm. Sometimes we hold on to a place because letting go of it feels like letting go of the person all over again.

  2. Great flow with the language. “Where Venus and Jupiter were born” could mean so many things to the reader… loved it.

  3. It's hard looking for answers and never receiving them. Very good story!

  4. What a lovely remembrance. I think your beautiful narrative answers your question.

  5. Lovely write…the horses names are absolutely planetary(sorry, couldn't help myself). Grand Pappy sounds like a wise man. I have one that I miss, too.

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