barbeque in the country

picked up Darrel at his farm,
first saw work he’d done,
talked a bit, checked the time
then hit the road.

off out there we drove,
a country parcel north o’ the village,
parked in grass at the part tin clubhouse
for a Sunday good eatin’ chicken barbeque

the American Legion put it on,
country eatin’ fun, for all’d come,
at the intersection of parched long fields,
on a rise by rail road tracks.

men fired slow baked glazed golden chicken,
cole slaw, barbeque beans the ladies made,
plus chocolate sheet cake frosted,
with as you please coffee and lemonade.

under yellow sun, very still this hot July noon,
doors and windows were slung open a mile,
an electric fan hummed a welcome summer breeze
in our rural, out of the way, little town Ohio.