Rural Route 2
Poetry and Wisdom from an Old Man Remembering His Childhood
by
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Traveling Back Traveling back in time to the old home place, I wanted to leave, it was my choice, But reality sunk in and I’m just like the rest, Throughout the years, the days have flown by, I want to go back but I can’t return, May mom and dad be at peace with God,
Wash Day Mom had a day once a week rain or shine, Mom started early and worked into the night, Back then washing clothes was pretty hard work, From a tub filled with water she pulled out the clothes, Into a basket that sat on the floor, Everything smelled so fresh the next day,
Looking back now, as tears fall on my face.
A sadness forms from deep within,
While remembering back to the days back then.
Out into the world I wanted a voice.
A little boy with such big plans,
I knew it all; I’d have lots of fans.
The world took over and stole my best.
So here I stand, I’m looking back,
And now I realize the things that I lacked.
Without me taking the time to wonder why.
I had it all but I didn’t know,
Always afraid I was missing the show.
So sad to know my bridges burned.
Time turned out to be my foe,
No need to leave, but I had to go.
May I always remember this little piece of sod.
And the quietness I feel while standing here,
May my memory always keep it dear.
When she washed all the clothes and hung them on the line.
This was a day that I never did like,
Clothes stacked up in piles are not a pretty site.
Folding and pressing to get them just right.
It was pretty hard work as I still recall,
Washing and scrubbing she gave it her all.
This knuckle busting job didn’t have many perks.
Still mother did it with a smile on her face,
Cause that’s how it was for this woman of grace.
I can still smell the Clorox as it went up my nose.
Into the wringer she’d crank them on through,
To squeeze out the water at least a time or two.
Filled to the brim it could hold no more.
From there she would take them outside to the line,
Where they hung in the wind and the bright sunshine.
"Now don’t get them dirty," my mother would say.
But come the next week, she’d start up again,
Cause to mom having dirt, was almost a sin.
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About the Book
Rural Route 2
From the opening poem about the author traveling back in time to his childhood to the funny story of his mom locked in battle with a mouse in the house, you will find this is a book that will be difficult to put down. You will want to refer back to it often, as some of the stories will remind you of your youth.
This book also honors the farmer and the farmer’s way of life. This proud profession is the backbone of our country and deserves to be recognized by the people that consume their products. God Bless both the farmer and his wife.
About the Author
Jerry Burtcher was born in Kokomo, Indiana in 1947.After growing up in rural Indiana he joined the United States Marine Corps and served in Vietnam. He worked his complete career in the telecommunications field, mostly as a design engineer for Ameritech. Now retired, he still resides near the place he grew up. It is here that he spends his days, with his wife of many years, writing poetry, fishing, golfing and enjoying the leisure life that he has earned. He also enjoys his two grown daughters and looks forward to spending time spoiling his grandchildren.