"Campbell Lane"

Weathered maple trees line the road,
their modest green leaves whipping
from side-to-side in the breeze.

The air has the chill of Fall upon it,
and days like these are small in number.

Two small boys shuffle along, fishing
poles over their shoulders, singing a
bawdy song about beer barrels and a wall.

One looks like Tom Sawyer, the other, 
Huckleberry Finn; I'd expect to see them
riding a raft in the Spring.

This old road has served this community
for ninety-five years.  Slowly widening, 
like so many other things; I guess it fits 
the bill.

It's seen two great wars, the tramp of a
thousand feet, mail wagons and tractors,
horses and mules.

I saw a picture of it when it was ten 
years old. Like all things on this planet, 
it's aged and cracked, split and complained.

But, by golly, it's done its job, this old
country road...a name to be remembered...
Campbell Lane.