MY FORTY-THREE FORD

Written by: Denise Hengeli

I had a special little Ford
That was so shiny black
It was a tiny two-door coop
With a brake light in the back

I paid out all my money
One hundred twenty-five
There was a clutch and a brake
So I could stay alive

I think it was a '43
Though people said "not likely"
"They did not make them in that year"
But there it was...so sprightly!

I had a car though I was young,
I think I was sixteen
Safety didn't interest me,
But my car stayed shiny and clean

It had a quirk, it's cause unknown
The brakes would heat and seize
Used my strength to push the pedal
But thrilled to feel the breeze

As to the little brake light
Right there in the middle
The brakes got hot; the light stayed on
And never dimmed a little

I'd park the car so it could cool
The light finally gave relief
The longer I drove, the hotter it got
That was my belief

I no longer had a need to explain
Why the light refused to dim
Even during the cooling rain
On my car with the fancy trim

I wonder as I think of then
How did I stay alive?
Was I indestructible?
My main thought was – I could drive!