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Burr, its
cold outside.
Putting on
overalls and coats,
Driving
with grandpa to the auction,
Standing
still and silent at the old farm site,
Staring at
the old Johnny poppers and the
Old-fashioned
planter boxes
With the
old texture of work
from the
hard times.
The loud
auctioneer saying swiftly,
“Hep,
hep, and sold”
At lunch
time going to concessions
Watching
the sale
With the
smell of kraut
Eating A
polish dog.
Raising my
hand biding
And then
sold for $5
For a box
of junk.
My grandpa
was upset,
“Why
did you pay $5 for a box of junk?”
I gazed at
it with joy
Sorting
through it I found some old
Antique
John Deere wrenches Smiling at me.
Worth well
over $5.
I showed
grandpa
He was
proud,
So one
man’s junk
Is another
man’s treasure..
Andy Meysenburg
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