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July 25, 2020

Donna Jo

I was 16 and riding my motorcycle around the lake
wasn’t goin’ nowhere special just ridin’ for riding sake
rain started falling so I pulled under an old barn eave
it started to get heavy didn’t know when I could leave
I looked out at the amber waves of grain
just enjoying the sound of the summer rain 
the corn in a nearby field was just about knee high
the way it’s supposed to be by the fourth of july 
the shower ended and I was back on my way
the skies were still a swirly mix of blue and gray
I was on the road when I saw a girl who was lookin’ to hitchhike 
I stopped and told her she could get on the back of my bike
asked her where she was headed, she said she didn’t know
her parents were fighting again and she couldn’t take no more
we stopped at a little general store by the side of the road
she suggested having a picnic to help her ease her load
we bought a couple of sandwiches and a bag of chips
a couple of cold fantas and a couple of dips
she said by the way my name is donna jo 
but I wish it was something cool like brigitte bardot 
we rode a little more and then she saw a place
in a field she said that was absolutely the perfect space
we sat down on the grass it was still pretty wet
it was still a couple of hours before sunset
we ate and talked a while and then she said she’d better get back
her folks might get worried not knowin’ where she was at
I dropped her off at her house on 300 west 
at an old rundown white clapboard house not lookin’ the best
I said maybe sometime I’m riding again I’ll stop by
she nodded her head and looked like she could cry
I was still young then what the hell did I know?
I’ll always remember the afternoon I spent with donna jo