Brush Hill River Bridge

[good4somethingbum]

Brush Hill River BridgeI thought dad messed up by tryin’ to leave in AprilHis old Ford got as far as the sun painted MaplesGuarding the riversideSo when I turned 18 I waited till DecemberI wanted outta this burg but I rememberedThe beauty of Spring’s warm lightBut as I hitchhiked on that autumn hillAnd gazed down on my small hometownSnow dusted churches and rivermillsCalled me back somehowCos my family goes back five generationsWe’re a breed of mechanics, farmers and masonsCell phone service is bad in our little valleyThere’s only four lanes in our bowling alleyBut most who’ve left to go wild or get richRarely pass over the Brush Hill River BridgeThey say this place is a throwback to the fiftiesBut ev’ry vet in the barbershop gets mistyTalkin’ ‘bout his rootsThere’s no jumbo-tron at the pee-wee ballparkAnd ol’ Roy delivers mail in a rusty golf cart‘long the rural routesBut some pack up kit n kaboodleAnd try leavin’ this life behindThen find leavin’ this town is futileCos it’s torn from the pages of timeYeah, down in the holler we stay quiet n hiddenRabbit chili won the science fair blue ribbonI paid my parking fine in four easy installmentsOf hog’s head jerky and honey-roasted almondsmost who leave here turn back on the ridgeOverlooking the Brush Hill River BridgeSometimes I watch that river runnin’ freeAnd know I wouldn’t leave here if I was ableCos I can feel Dad smilin’ down on meWhen Spring shines on his stone through the maplesNear the Brush Hill River Bridge…the Brush Hill River Bridge©2007 Robert George