Missouri

Night as chilly as the earth after rain,

The highways and back streets are abandoned.

 

The sun begins to peer over golden farm fields and

Sky-high structures.

 

As the sky turns into a

Beautiful watercolor painting,

A lone banjo sings the

Song of its home.

 

Fathers step out of their homes,

Gently removing children

From their legs.

 

Some are dressed in a T-shirt and jeans,

Ready for a day of

Physical hard work,

Hauling bales of hay and

Cutting firewood,

Sweat pouring down their backs. 

 

Some are dressed in a suit and tie,

Ready for a day of

Mental hard work,

Calculating long equations and

Fixing problems,

Thoughts running through their mind.

 

Each is doing their job making

The wheels turn

In their home

Of Missouri.

 

As the day closes,

And the watercolor sky returns,

They all gather

Around the bonfire,

A flaming beacon in the

Growing darkness.

Husbands kiss their wives and

Kids hug their daddys.

 

Stories and beer are passed around,

Smiles grow, and

Heavy hearts are lightened.

 

As the moon creeps high

Into the sky,

Neighbors give out

Goodbyes and hugs,

And head for their beds.

 

And the final sound heard is

A lone banjo

Singing the song

Of its home.

Author's Note

"Daddys" was intentionally spelled that way.