10-4 Magazine / March 2026 73 Poetry in Motion: By Trevor Hardwick MYSTIFIED! Sometimes, I get misty-eyed, Just thinking back in time. Of all those precious memories, With that ol’ man of mine. I guess that I was mysti ed, By places that I’d see. And mysti ed by trucker-tales, That my ol’ man told me. Mysti ed by shooting stars, On dark Nevada nights. And mysti ed while rolling through, The New York City lights. Mysti ed by white noise, On the C.B. radio. And mysti ed by all the places, Dad and I would go. Cell phones weren’t invented yet, I just gandered through the glass. As dad, and that ol’ truck and I, Would watch the world go past. Mysti ed by vapors, Rising o the interstate. And mysti ed by souvenirs, From truck stops where we ate. Mysti ed by fancy rigs, We’d run with, now and then. And mysti ed by places, I may never see again. Back at home, I’d sit in school, And daydream ‘bout the road. My mind, a million miles away, From what the textbooks sold. Mama taught me long ago, To be humble and kind. But daddy recognized a fever, Burning in my mind. Mysti ed by shadows, Chasing fencelines in a eld. And mysti ed by streetlights, Bouncing o the polished steel. Mysti ed by noisy Jakes, In tunnels, just for fun. And mysti ed by mud ap weights, Just swingin’ in the sun. Mysti ed by wipers slapping, Through a Midwest storm. And mysti ed while rolling past, The rows of planted corn. Mysti ed to think about, The things I’ve seen and done. And all I might’ve missed, if I’d, Been someone else’s son. Oh, what a glorious feeling to be full speed ahead into March already! Here comes truck show season and greener pastures! Time to shake o the snow and head to the show!! While we’re on the topic of good times and memorable events, I’d like to encourage you to think about bringing those kiddos along for the ride. Spring break is quickly approaching for many schools, and I cherished the trips I took with my dad during spring and summer breaks. I was completely mesmerized and mysti ed by the sights and experiences I had in the shotgun seat of dad’s trucks. From big and exciting cities to endless corn elds, from eerie wide-open Nevada nights to thrilling thunderstorms across the plains, I took it all in. I was curious about every place we went and eager to get on to the next place. When I was back at home and doing normal day to day things, I just dreamed about going back out there with dad, longing for the mystique of the open road. I’m truly blessed that my dad understood and embraced that spirit within me. I could have been born and raised in a “normal” childhood deal, but imagine all the things I would have missed if I’d been someone else’s kid! I call this one “Mysti ed!”
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