.
Our car was old, even then
V-8; hydra-glide tranny
Fins, sharp and high
The style of its day.
We drove into the mountains
On state highways
Taking switchbacks and hairpins
Up and down the mountainsides
For miles and miles
Nothing but green forest
Then a sign or two
And in the blink of an eye
You’re in the middle
Of some little town.
The mountain towns were still working then
Had their own banks and stores
Before the day of fast-food chains
We ate in the dining room
Of the Pioneer Hotel
With its ten-foot ceilings
Slow turning fans
and cherry wood panels
The harvest of 200 years uninterrupted growth.
The menu was a typed, mimeographed sheet
Paper-clipped to a pasteboard.
Copyright 2015
Home Economics 