Bonnie McGill / Blog

Eighteen Wheel Trucker

Eighteen Wheel Trucker

A checkered sign of gold and black, At the end of a dead end road, And just beyond, a deep ravine, Where the raging water flowed,

The trucker slumped behind the wheel, His rig was moving fast, With this short cut, he had hoped that he'd, Soon be back at home at last.

For fourteen hours without a break, He turned those eighteen wheels, It was his son's ninth birthday, He knew how a young lad feels.

Not like most dads,home every night, His work kept them apart. But his family never did complain, For he had trucking in his heart.

But this one weekend, they had planned, Just the three of them, there'd be, They'd lie back and fish in the country air, Neath a big old shady tree.

Little Joey didn't know it yet, But in his dad's big sleeper bed, Was Joey's brand new rod and reel, And miles of line, like silver thread.

A tackle box, with hooks and lures, The best his dad could find, And a fishing cap,his dad was sure, Had to be one of a kind.

Joey sat beside the window, Looking for that Big Mack Truck, "Dad should be home within the hour, Mom said,"with any luck.

"Those candles on my birthday cake, Won't be lit till dad gets home. Sometimes i miss him so darn much, When he's out there all alone.

"But this weekend's gonna be so great, I just can't wait till dawn, When I throw out my fishing line, I hope a great big fish gets on."

The checkered sign on the dead end road, Was sheared off to the ground, In the deep ravine was a Big Mack Truck, Some motorist's had found.

Headlights were shining towards the sky, Cutting through the dark of night, The police arrived with unusual speed, Praying the driver was alright.

Joey who had drifted slowly off to sleep, Awakened with a scream, "Mom, Daddy's been in an awful wreck, I just had the most frightening dream."

His mother tried to calm him, But she had a strange fear too, She never could get used to it, When her man was overdue.

Then came a police car up the drive, And as two men walked to the door, Joe's mom's heart was pounding. As she crossed the kitchen floor.

"Sorry ma'am, there's been an accident." She felt sure her man was dead, "Your husband's in the hospital, A concussion to the head."

They rode there in the police car, Joe and his mother too, The trucker said, "This ain't no fishin' trip, But I guess it's gonna have to do.

They smile and hugged and laughed and cried, "I guess I must have gone to sleep, They tell me that my poor old rig, Is out there somewhere in a heap."

Two policemen walked into the room, And they looked at little Joe, "Your daddy sent us back for this, A little wet, but here you go."

"Oh Dad, a fishing pole; it's great, And look at all this gear" When he pulled out that fishing cap, His eyes filled up with tears.

Then a nurse came in with a birthday cake, "Make a wish now little Joe." He said, "God sent my daddy back to us, That's all I really want you know."

by Bonnie McGill

Hilary Marckx, songwriter
Hilary Marckx, songwriter  (almost 7 years ago)

Bonnie, what a great poem! And a happy ending. I was with little Joe's mom, thinking he was dead. You are a truly great writer! Hilary