I often talk about my love of creek
gravel-
the variety of rock types and colors
available locally
and reasonably priced.

So…
right before he left
he spread a load over my once
flat #57 white gravel driveway,
pretending to be doing me a favor.
“It’ll keep you out of the mud”
he said.

It was more rock than gravel, with
a variety of sizes, the 
averge about that of a baseball.
He spread it thick and uneven-

My driveway became an obstacle
course, unstable -downright dangerous!

I moved many of the larger boulders 
but walking on it was
still a challenge, especially at night.
I tripped.
I twisted my ankle.
I think negotiating the uneven surface
contributed to having to get a
hip-replacement.

I cursed him and my 
rockpile-of-a-driveway
everytime I got out of the car.

After year of weather, being
walked on and driven over
the rocks have finally settled.
Although not flat, it is stable
and I can enjoy the colors, texture and
sparkle of the creek rock.

Did he really think he as doing me a favor?
Or did he want to show me the error
of my creek rock love’n ways?

When I get out of the car I no longer
curse my rockpile driveway, but
I do, sometimes curse him.