Tennessee Lessons

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We're on a trip to Tennessee

Before new highways came to be

The winding state routes take us there

I'm hoping we will see a bear


My father says the dirt is red

I don't believe the words he said

How could the dirt be red not brown

I ponder this as my lips frown


The trip is long the hours drag

Our sweaty bodies start to sag

Then I whoop as a sign I see

It reads "Welcome to Tennessee"


And then I can't believe my eyes

"The dirt is red!" I cry surprised

My father chuckled at my shock

Then he points out a circling hawk


Dad is quick to see critters bound

My head snaps to see what he found

A groundhog nibbles by the road

Across the state route bounds a toad


An owl sits on a bare tree limb

A cat peeks from a trash can rim

I never know what we will see

But Dad's sharp eyes adds to my glee


A mountain road makes my eyes pop

For at road edge is quite a drop

Town buildings below look so small

The thought of fall makes my skin crawl


Onto a narrow road we turn

I see sights that make my heart churn

Houses sided with newspaper

Results of a teenage caper?


Cereal boxes side a wall

Makes my mind go into a stall

Homes are patched with large metal sheets

"Why?" I ask with a naive bleat


"I guess they used what they could find

You make do when you're in a bind

Maybe that's all they could afford"

Daddy's words struck an inner cord


A lesson taught on our side trip

Something inside me did a flip

I would never forget that day

Desperation will find a way


Back to the state route with a turn

For many miles black tires churn

The state park sign is up ahead

We find park lodge which holds our beds


Our eyes go wide at rustic view

My aunts and uncles, cousins too

The lodge setup for scout retreat

And all rooms have floors of concrete


The barracks split by common room

And rows of bunk beds line bedroom

The girls on left and boys on right

Children delight a novel sight


The fireplace in common room

Will chase away the nighttime gloom

Couches circle the fireplace

A place to sit and slow life's pace


In room's middle is where we dine

Bare wood chairs and tables of pine

A large kitchen at end of room

We all hope tasty meals will bloom


Rustic lodge sits by a lake

A fishing jaunt I hope to take

Some rented rowboats are our lot

We need to row to fishing spot


Rowboats they make our fishing fun

A quiet transport under sun

We return with a mess of fish

String of catfish, bass and sunfish


All fried up for our dinner's meal

The fish lovers dive in with zeal

After dinner we play card games

We play until exhaustion claims


Our bed blankets are made of wool

The buyer must have been a fool

Barracks are hot from heat outside

I changed my mind upon sunrise


In the mountains the nights are cold

I realized I was naive fool

Glad wool blanket was on my bed

Pull warm blanket over my head


My cousin taught card game of hearts

Then we noticed her counterpart

Almost always she won each game

Counting cards was her private fame


Uncle fell out of a rowboat

He tried to sneak back in lodge soaked

He fell from boat pulled up on shore

The sad guy's story made us roar


We played a trick on all our kin

We snagged in weeds we said with grin

A record bass hung on clothes line

We had some fun for a short time


But then we told kin the whole tale

We snagged dead bass in weeds by tail

Tis true he did not give much fight

But still big bass was quite a sight


After a week of play and fun

And all our stories had been spun

We packed our bags and headed home

So glad to see our private dome


I learned a little about life

How others live with daily strife

My life may be a modest fare

But others dream to reach this stair


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