Houseful of Bargains
The font and vernacular make you read it fast and then slow, the rusting tin of the porch's roof rolls the history down with each drop of rain, bleeding some time and covering off the front, still showing its name and intention to those willing to pause and look for help.
It's white doors are the entry, and it four windows, now shut, but open in the summers heat, and closed in the winters cold, leave the front wide open to those who walk this wooden porch. There were probably a couple of cane back chairs, maybe even a small table, made of a wooden crate, and supporting a black and red board to let the checkers go by with the breeze of a sunshine day.
Noises that you could put a name with, tire-bars and sledge hammers, banging and pulling the rubber from the frames, and popping noises of the tires fitting tight, and the hiss of air as it filled each one.
Relax on the front porch, walk inside in your mind, ignore the high weeds, the days of summer growth on the roofline, and let that shop of long ago warm times, come back to life.
Ralph E. Peck
Photo by Ralph Peck
Picture from Northeast Oklahoma, not far from Missouri and Arkansas.
Comentarios