Country road

 The old country road seemed longer than he remembered. It had been too many years to recall, he thought, since he and his mule had cleared it leading up to the house. He smiled, remembering the sunflowers that grew on either side that his daughter planted and how strange it was that every once in a blue moon, a single flower would sprout up and stand tall after all these years.

He remembered the road that led home from the fields he had worked for so long he had forgotten it and the countless times he and his wife of sixty years would walk hand in hand down that road, sometimes in silence and sometimes to discuss important matters like how many kids would be coming home for Christmas.

That old dusty road held many memories for him as he shuffled his way down to check the mail, hoping to find a letter or postcard from a loved one. However, the box was empty that day. He heard her calling his name to come up for supper, knowing she wasn't done cooking yet. His steps were slow now, but she had learned over the years when to heat up the skillet, so his supper was piping hot.

Now, each time he walks down that country road, he remembers his life and the people in it. He remembers the old farm truck, the tractor, and his son's jalopy built one summer, as well as the countless walks that always led him home and to her.

Mike 2024