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Poem

Road Scars

Where we’ve been in our trusty old car
Leaves a tale it can tell
From the dirt that graces the trailer hitch
To the mud in the fender well

Entrails of bugs on the windshield…
Bugs of every kind
Heaven knows that we all know…
The last thing to cross their mind!

The blossoms of Bakersfield
The dirt from an unpaved road
From Buttonwillow to Oil Patch
The dust clouds just explode!

The nicest car on the brightest day
Rolling down brand new road
Is never a match for a well primed dove
Ready to drop his load!

So our car is a canvas on which is painted
The places we have been
It bears the marks of low hanging branches
Etched into its tin

We also have a past
That’s visible to trace
All the mud we have been through
Is etched upon our face!

                                      David Kettler

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