Roads

A new CDL riding in his back hip pocket,

holding a "Mom" etched rose locket,

he geared it up and he pulled away.

Growing up on America's roads  

Got to move on, to get the next load.

Alone in a Kenworth with 18 wheels.

On asphalt emitting shimmering heat,

or ice covered highways or streets

He'd always stop to take her calls.

He wasn't there when she got the news.

He was still out rolling, and paying dues.

He stopped the wheels, and walked away.

He drove her in, to watch chemo drip.

That cold CDL still riding on his hip.

Her son.  He stayed with her every day.

He loved her through cancer's hell,

buried her, -and a part of him as well,

then he geared it up, and pulled away.

He'd  left that locket safe in her hands

So in a shop, doing human brands

he had her name inked onto his skin.

Now his Mom's his driving arm,

she's his heart, and his lucky charm,

and he's never alone, when he pulls away.

For my brother, Donray, who supported our Mom through her fight with cancer. © 2018 Tamera Dobbins