The night rolled in
like a tired truck driver.
It was getting cold
but he didn’t care.
He chuckled, “bring on the snow.”
As his tires started to spin again.
Time to crush the clock.
Time for his last stop,
hit the delivery spot.
Then the trailer drops
and he drops off
at the nearest truck-stop.
His engine was running ,
heater hot,
Until, midnight hits
and his heater stops.
Sleeping sound
and dreaming of
a long ago war,
a little girl,
and two sisters more,
the sound of a piano,
dozing off in Sunday service.
Then not going to church anymore.
Then his dreams turn
Aleutian island cold.
Less than twenty four hours later
the engines slows to
a dead stop.
The manager of the rest stop
hits knock, knock, knock.
The door is locked,
so he phones the trucker’s boss.
Opens the cab
and finds his frigid form.
A body that didn’t weather this storm.
It really was his last truck stop.