morning we woke up in our sleeping bags,
the car was dripping condensation and we
had our final day ahead in Gettysburg
twelve miles to the east then Route 30
the rest of the way to Philadelphia, we toured
the battlefield, the great open breathless green
country that God sent down just so a battle
would be fought there, one of the birth places of the
America we'd seen first hand and so lovingly close
these last 6 days, in a roadside country stand selling
apples we met David (another David not the musician
with big white beard who apologized to Dave in St. Louis)
but a third David with a long white beard himself (too,
though his was tied at the end) and he asked us our
names, calling me Thomas even though I said Tom
and he wanted to know why we were interested in
battlefields, he was an old hippy soul but a good man,
he even gave us an apple each for the road, running up to
our car as we left with the fruit cradled in his arms, they were
crisp and juicy, delicious, our third tour with free gifts (he showed
us his house filled with pottery) and we
were ready for the non-stop terrible drive home with traffic
jams that you apparently only find in Philadelphia
and I said to the road we left behind that I never wanted to
quit going.
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