Generations…My Poem…Retracing

Retracing

Coal cellar winters,
ice box summers,
Beaver County Ice and Coal
provided fire or ice,
depending on the season.

As a boy,
my father drove his uncle’s truck
along the winding country road
to farmers’ wives
who waited for the frozen block
he slid into each  ice box.

Forty years later
our family Sunday drives
sometimes retraced his route.

He brought his children,
to his yesterday’s.

This afternoon
I stand on piece of ground
raw with new construction.

Intent, my daughter listens
to the realtor
as she steps
across the threshold
of suburbia.

But I remember.

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