Poetry Friday - Edward Hopper

           It's time again for Poetry Friday. Thanks for hosting, Carol Wilcox, a few blocks north of me, at Carol's Corner! Don't miss her post, a wonderful one about verse novels. 

          I am fortunate to have the time to work at the used bookstore where I volunteer. If you already don't know, it's a store that's been running for nearly fifty years, a non-profit 501 (c) 4, first started by a small group of women who thought the community should have a bookstore! One also can become a member, though it's not necessary, and as a member, one receives credits, for the fee per year and for books donated. Thus, I find a lot of books that one could say are 'free'. Recently a book about Edward Hopper was donated and I snapped it up, am enjoying reading about his life, learning about his career from beginning to the end. Its copyright is 1983. I have written a few poems using Hopper's paintings. Each one inspires a story, doesn't it?  Now inspired by the book and one of Hopper's favorites, Here's one of my poems.

          

after Edward Hopper’s Gas


My Uncle Bill walked into the picture,
shutting down the tanks
of his gas station
at the edge of town,
closing at dusk,
homebound for supper.

What only I can see 
is the fireworks stand
at the back,
knocked together wood planks,
red, white and blue bunting
draping the table's front. 
Sometimes I got to help,
my life's favorite paycheck –
sparklers. 

You also cannot know
he retired when the big stations
took over, 
in the big towns,
with the big prices.

That's when everyone
in this small town
had to drive twelve miles,
no longer could say
"fill 'er up",
but had to pump the gas themselves,
while missing my Uncle Bill.

Linda Baie (c) All Right Reserved