February 5, 2026

Wrote this song about a truck. It was bought for me. I was pissed.

32 miles on her.

Payments, cloth seats and four little boys.

Hauled kids, grandkids and a lot of love, mistakes and futures.

At 225,000 in, my daddy took it.

When he passed 5 years ago today,

She came back to me with 2000 more miles on it. Still like new.

I don’t think she cared much for Oklahoma. She never acted the same. Guess she wanted to go home too.

Well, her home is in my yard now. There she will stay until I breath no more.

Some things in life become part of you.

Just can’t let them go.

No one says you have to.

Sometimes, driving that truck, I would feel a presence.

Sometimes, my father.

Sometimes, the laughter of a little boy. Who is no longer on this dirt.

The voices of my children and grands.

A familiar feeling and fullness. I was never alone, even if I was the only one in her.

She was a safe place.

21 years later,

Head gasket blew yesterday. 283,000 Mechanics want more than what I have or will have.

She drove and rode like a Cadillac until the end.

So we are going to park her by the fence.

Go to sleep now old Blue.

Springs coming soon.

Time to plant…red will look good on you.

They don’t ring church bells for a pickup truck,

No folded flags, no preacher’s luck,

But if,
steel could pray and rubber could kneel,

She earned her rest just as honest as we feel.
Morning starts, late nights done,

Cold keys turned, she’d always come.

No questions asked, no grace
required,

She ran on faith and being wired.

So park it by the fence, let the engine cool, Let the dust settle like it always do.

If heaven’s.
got gravel roads and shade,

She’s earned a spot where the good ones stay.

Don’t cry too long,
don’t make it hard,

She carried our lives, now guard her heart—

Just park it by the fence,

She’s done enough.

She hauled more than wood and wire and hay,

She carried silence, she carried days.

Kids asleep, one headlight out,

She knew the long way and the way back home.
Every scrape a chapter wrote,

Every mile a promise kept.

She never bragged, never bowed,

Just showed up strong and left it all out.

So park it by the fence, under open sky, Where the wind still knows her lullaby.

If there’s a gate where old roads end,

She’ll idle there with old friends.

No polished words, no last amen,

Just grease-stained hands and a nod from men—

Park it by the fence,

She’s done enough.

Bridge Steel don’t die, it just remembers,

Every winter, every summer.

And when the vines climb where the hood once lay, That’s just proof she found a different way.

So park it by the fence, let the years roll on,

Let tomatoes grow where the miles are
gone.

If work is prayer and miles are proof,

She lived a life of honest truth.

No spotlight end, no shining gloss,

Just a job well done and a fair trade cost—

Park it by the fence,

She’s done enough.

Some things don’t need a goodbye said loud…

They just rest… And make us proud.

P.S. For shits and grins. I went out and turned the key.

She cranked right up, like I knew she would.

Sounding like her old self.

I laughed.

Then I layed over the steering wheel…and cried.