Vox Populi
A Public Sphere for Poetry, Politics, and Nature. Over 15,000 daily subscribers. Over 7,000 archived posts.
Ted Kooser: Mudflaps
Out driving, I like to come up behind trucks
with mudflaps, chalky, slate-colored ones
hanging onto their hard jobs, ice and mud
stuck to their faces and, in big block letters,
some company’s name on the back, as if on
a T-shirt. I know how that kind of work feels,
blind to what may be ahead, clinging by
cold, riveted fingers while an enterprise roars
into an uncertain future, wipers slapping,
slowing a little when going uphill, rolling
faster and faster on the way down and, on
long sweeping curves, swinging you out
toward the precipice side. Now I’m retired,
just out for a drive, wrist casually draped
over the wheel, the other hand adjusting
the heater controls. I always slow down
to admire those hard-working mudflaps
hanging onto their jobs, not glancing over
at me as I pull out to pass and drive on.
Copyright 2021 Ted Kooser. Published by permission of the author.
Ted Kooser is the former Poet Laureate of the United States. His many books include Kindest Regards: New and Selected Poems (Copper Canyon, 2018).
Vox Populi 
Gifts of Ted Kooser manifest gratitude of simple observation with a passionate depth, enroute. Kindly Kate Clare
LikeLiked by 1 person
I never thought about mudflaps, until there weren’t any. Terrific poem.
LikeLiked by 1 person