My father at one point became in charge of making fire engines for Mack Motors.
Here is a great moment from my childhood. —N.P
Here is a great moment from my childhood. —N.P
Father Arrives in the Triumphal Car
Astride
a red
cacophony
of siren and bell,
home comes
father driving
a new fire
engine,
high leather seat
more red
than the long
red sweep
of fender,
yellow
ladders
snapped
in place
as are
black
hoses with
their
shiny
silver
nozzles.
The trim
around
the door
cutouts
is real gold
“to airy
thinness
beat.”
The shocked
brown
neighbor
houses
take
a step
back,
and
Bruce Held
with his
attic full
of toy
Alpine
villages
and electric
trains
is
envious
at