Leaping free from the side
of an old Chevrolet
pick up truck
I planted my feet in
the dark soil.

She cast a glance
and jumped
unafraid and unrestrained
her dimples deepening
as she laughed.

The old man
our grandfather
climbed the metal stairs
and I knew that
this day would remain.

We ran behind him
watching his hands as they
drew the oil soaked
metal measuring tape
from the tank.

With a stub of a pencil he
copied the numbers into
a small paper pad
and placed it back into
the pocket of his Big Smiths.

Descending again
we ran ahead and leapt
feet first
from the fifth tread
crossing moist air

to land light as children
run laughing and fly
into the back of that old truck
as the old man
             closed the door.

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