Caught Up in the Wheel

Caught Up in the Wheel.

It hurts to see the Amish

serving rude people at the market,

instead of farming,

instead of being free in their fields,

raising their own food,

or quilting on their back porch.

Windmills producing vegetables.

This woman at the bake shop-

is in pain – trying to cope,

head covering, long dress, and tears,

and her daughter is across the way

suffering abuse as a waitress.

Hurry up with that coffee!

And the father is at the deli,

born to be a farmer,

everyone knows he is a farmer,

yet here he is slicing lunchmeat,

because he cannot afford-

the land.

God, this is awful,

and worse,

I’m a part of it.

Let me walk out of here, now

instead of paying them

to say “Hello-may I help you?”


We all need to be set free,

from being caught up in the wheel.



© Copyright 2014, nicodemasplusthree

The Fruit Stand

The Fruit Stand

Going northbound on RT 322,

it was on the right,

before the village,

known as the Cloister.

Fruits and vegetables,

you could smell their freshness,

next to the farm they came from.

I especially liked the cantelopes.

A young Mennonite woman working,

something different here,

a lifestyle of peace and love –

internal quiet,

and external kindness.

We made our choices,

plastic bags and money,

then we noticed her younger brother.

He had a bike and a smirk,

on his face, he shook his head,

like “these crazy tourists”.

I wanted to yell,

“What is wrong with you!”

“Love and hate in the same family?”

“How can you not love people,

of another color?”

I didn’t say it though,

biting my tongue.

He was just a kid,

so I let it go.

Besides – I was hoping

he would learn

from his big sister.



© Copyright 2014, nicodemasplusthree


Sometimes small towns can captivate us. They can have the right combination of history, art, shops, and people. This about a small town in Pennsylvania, that my wife and I enjoy.


I like Lititz.

Hand crafted chocolate,

red caboose museum,

no shops with pick pockets

reaching for you money.

A small, classy hotel,

a café.

Pizza and subs down the street,

a barber shop,

people without plastic,

they seem real instead.

Ducks in the fountain and crosswalks,

faithful bricks,

large church in the middle.

I can still hear the history,

of fireplaces crackling,

with sincerity and truth,

and community.

I pray the flame never goes out.

I like Lititz.


© Copyright 2014, nicodemasplusthree

The Border

As an interracial couple, my wife and I can sense racism. We can “feel” hatred for others seemingly just in the air, depending on where we are. Traveling into parts of Pennsylvania is like a breath of fresh air. There is racism everywhere though, no matter where you go. It hurts, it stings, but we forgive and move on. The Amish and Mennonites are non-violent Christian groups that I love to write about. My wife and I feel good around them, and safe.

The Border

As soon as we crossed over

I noticed the difference.

We went from the Confederate flag on one side

to a church sign with the Gospel message on the other.

Wasn’t Pennsylvania known for

it’s Abolitionists?

I think I heard that the Liberty Bell rang on occasion

for blacks as well as whites.

My wife (who’s African American) said

we are no longer in the south.

I felt the oppression leave too. What a relief.

At least the Anabaptists never hurt anyone.


We’re safe now,

among the Amish and the Mennonites.



© Copyright 2014, nicodemasplusthree