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The Old Jeep

by Amy Niggel

I have no clue what year it is
I was born in '82
and It was old then.
I remember riding around,
with my aunts and uncles and cousins
and my grandfather driving.
No seatbelts,
we held on tight
to one another when he took sharp turns,
going up to camp,
all those twisted pitted old roads.
and when we got there
how beautiful it was,
'Rustic'
I suppose that is what you call it when you are rich.
To me it was beautiful
a whole playground,
a stream
a forest
a tiny One roomed cabin,
and the loft,
I thought that loft was the single most amazing thing in the world!
I haven't been to the camp in oh I don't know about five years.
I haven't ridden in that old jeep in about 12.
I haven't seen my family
be altogether and happy like that
in over 14 years.
Funny how time will do that,
they are all kinda broken down now,
the cabin is falling down,
the jeep doesn't run anymore,
and the family well they don't even talk,
time stole it all,
the memmories of then,
when I was little,
only a kintergardener,
with wilde hazel eyes,
and long blonde ringletts
now,
well I'm a college sophmore,
with angry eyes,
and short hair,
I cut it off out of spite.
Why can't they all see these memmories?
I know I can fix that cabin damn it,
give me a hammer,
and some wood,
I'll have it good as new in no time!
The jeep,
that may take a ltiile longer,
but I thinkI could get it running!
The family,
maybe if they saw it all fixed,
like it used to be
maybe they could be fixed too
the bonds reforged
the friendships renewed
but that is the only one I know
I cannot do alone.

02/22/2002

Posted on 02/22/2002
Copyright © 2024 Amy Niggel

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