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The Postcard

Story ID:6389
Written by:Monte Leon Manka (bio, contact, other stories)
Story type:Poem
Location:Hemet CA. USA
Person:Questioning Chelsea Kansas Kid
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The Postcard

The Postcard

Contrary to what
You’ve been told
The streets of El Dorado
Weren’t paved with gold.

You can see from the Postcard
Travelin on Main
Was similar to travelin
On any country lane.

Dusty in the summer
Muddy in the Spring
Snow and Ice in the winter
Anything else the weather might bring.

The horse drawn buggies
And the Model “T’s”
Movin up and down Main
Would stir up a breeze.

With the breeze
There were puffs of dust
Keeping the merchandise clean
Havin the doors closed was a must.

On a hot summer day
With no electric AC’s
Only those unbalanced ceiling fans
To stir up a breeze

You did your shopping fast
You hurried out of there
The air was stale and stagnant
And smelled of the ware.

To attract the farmers
These merchants would have sales
Parked buggies and “T’s”
Side by side at hitching rails.

While crossing Main, the ladies with
High buttoned shoes
Stepped carefully over the wagon ruts
And the Horse Do-Do’s.

The speed limit on Main
Was Slow
Horses and “T’s”
Didn’t go very fast, doncha know

Later after sundown
And the stores were shut tight
Only the nite lites were on
With nary a soul in sight

Movin down the dimly lit street
Main Street was clear
Only the Snooker Parlor was open
They served peanuts and sold 3.2 beer.

By ten o’clock at night
Main Street was bare
Only hoof prints and buggy tracks
Was all that was left there

Seeing the picture of Main Street
On this penny postcard
As a kid of the “twenties”
Those times musta been hard..
Monte L. Manka 10-04-10