My 67 Ford
Though I was young and less than legal age,
I had a friend who co-signed forms… rampage!
At twenty-one, to me she seemed mature.
A confidence of trust that is for sure!
Oh how I loved that year; I was nineteen.
Yes, it was then I took out my first lien.
What fun to have a car to call my own.
All I had to do was pay off the loan.
With, pride…I loved my 67 Ford.
That Galaxy 500, I adored.
I could hardly believe it was so new.
A one owner one-year-old car; yahoo!
I was a tiny gal in a big car.
It was just the ticket for going far.
I could drive to work or go out with friends.
I loved taking trips on those long weekends.
In that car, I felt gladness and had clout.
Sometimes there were problems, without a doubt.
One afternoon, with the engine ablaze,
I screamed for help; my heart sunk in malaise.
I was picking up a friend from her work.
All that excitement was just a life perk!
Some nearby man came running to my aid.
He extinguished the fire while I prayed.
The dealer fixed the car without a charge.
I was back on the road, a kid at large!
We had a problem with a gunshot wound.
Believe you me, by my friends I was lampooned.
A 30.06 was on the back seat.
When it went off you could hear my heartbeat.
My sweater on the trigger; it was cold.
It carried that wound until it was old.
I traded it in; I was twenty-five.
But the Ford still lives in life's fun archive!
© March 2, 2012
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
Written for Poetry Soup Member Contest: