These Are My JOTtings, Part #2

Truck Ride Home

Gentle feeling, softest touch
smoothing hair away.
Windswept face, grateful much,
breezes paint the day.

Through the air, flying low,
blue skies, yellow, red,
blackened trees, "soldiers" know,
twinkling stars once hid.

Statue's pace, engine revs,
canvas scenes deep blur,
buffet winds, shuddering greaves
shelter there deters.

Journey through, body stops,
brain meanders through the yard.
Running home o'er road blacktops
molding life of forces hard.

by Jay O’Toole
on June 18th, 2025