Farmer in His Truck

He's up before the rooster, boots hit the floor,

Grabs his coffee, heads out the door.

The sunrise paints the fields with gold,

In that old red truck, stories unfold.

The bench seat’s cracked, but it holds his weight,

Rust on the door tells its age and fate.

Radio hums a familiar tune,

Rolling down the road 'neath the harvest moon.

Farmer in his truck, with the world in his hands,

Driving through the dirt, working this land.

The wheels may be worn, but the spirit is tough,

Life’s all he needs in that old pickup truck.

He waves at the neighbor, the town’s just a mile,

Stops by the diner, chats for a while.

The waitress pours coffee, knows him by name,

This life may be simple, but he loves it the same.

The seasons keep turning, the fields never rest,

Each year brings struggle, but he gives it his best.

The truck’s seen the storms, the heat, and the rain,

But it’s part of his story, through joy and through pain.

Farmer in his truck, with the world in his hands,

Driving through the dirt, working this land.

The wheels may be worn, but the spirit is tough,

Life’s all he needs in that old pickup truck.