Jimmy's car

  Well I'm back.... for now.  This year was one of reflection and other forms of creative writing took the place of my blog... mainly scribbling some poetry and I let the blog languish.  Since Google just recently started making noises about taking away their free services I was relieved to hear that the blogspot site was not one of them.  And thus I was inspired to use it or lose it.

This was the birthday week, so  I got to touch base with lots of people, some just on Facebook,  but social media is not all bad.  I get more laughs and grins on Facebook than in a typical day, even though I don't glance at it every day.   That doesn't say much for my social life, but I still see a big handful of friends here. 

This week I got more birthday greetings than I probably deserve, having been out of touch so long.    I got a birthday greeting from Jimmy and Rita in Carmel and so I thought to send them this poem that I started probably 40+ years ago and just finished last year.  

Jimmy’s car : Looking back

I borrowed a friend’s car                                           

good friend, brave to let me go                                

just learning the stick                                               

barely able to hold a hill                                           

and this his only vehicle                                          

old relic really but defining                                                 

the character of the man                                        

the owner:  young, beautiful 

Greek head of an old coin;                                    

ingenuous,  the “real deal”,                                           

are words that occur, but the                                    

car, the car should be long                                       

defunct in an auto graveyard 
somewhere complete with cur                                                                                                                      
for it was red now flaking oxide worn                

with time and miles                                                  

the seat now broken                                                

noises threaten, the body                                         

having no inside skin                                       

starting up a silent prayer                                     

as the dashboard panel’s out                      

sometimes out cruising                                           

the window drops down scary                              

the bang of it.                                                               

But the car yet lives                                               

embracing the tarmac                                            

innards purring,                                                        

a caressed cajoled                                                    

beloved beast                                                             

but take care while glancing down                                           

there’s a hole      

beneath your clutch                                       

not much, size of a gas cap                           

but a warning perhaps for                            

the irresistible draw

the bewitching grip                                        

of an asphalt river                                          

spinning                                                              

beneath your feet.

But when you finally make it                                

home intact

and didn’t even stall                

out on Carmel hill,

you will be able to count

this as one of the singular

rides of your life,

like the roller coaster

Luna Park Milan or

the time in the future

when you will ride camelback

in India and you can salute

my good pal, Jimmy

who still lives in Carmel

with a house full of energetic,

smart grand kids

and a gorgeous German wife .

Mary M Payne

                         

.