Faye Sizemore

MIZ RED

Miz Red

Awarded: September 5, 2004

Back up a winding graveled road
thick with honeysuckle and kudzu vines…
there is junkyard nestled ‘neath the pines

The cars and trucks are so very old
It had been many years
since any of these models were sold

I saw an old Peterbilt tractor that sat
partly covered with vines…
that grew around where it was at

Its paint was Scarlett…
pitifully faded from the sun…
one Mickey Mouse ear undone

Brushing greenery back with my hand
to get a better look…
I heard the approach of the old junk man

“Howdy… not for sale!”… he said…
“But… ain’t she the prettiest red…
She belonged to my son Ned”

I agreed…
and to talk
the old man did proceed

‘Yep, belonged to my only son
He bought her in ‘sixty-three…
drove her himself… just him and me

Named her… ‘Miz Red’… he did
He loved her… did Ned…
as much as he loved his old Dad

He always said, ‘the world I need to see
We’ll haul our load down every road
… Miz Red and me’

That old Vietnam came along
and before I knowed it…
Ned… he was gone

Every letter he wrote home
he said, ‘I love you… Daddy…
and tell Miz Red I won’t be long’

After he was shipped home from thar’
and we had him buried already…
they give him a Silver Star

As for seeing the world
… he has done just that
The view is great from where he’s at

I miss him…
I shore do…
and Miz Red does too”

Then he stepped back
… and tipped his hat
to that big old red truck

Miz Red just sat there… proudly
in the kudzu vines…
looking to me like the finest of Shrines…