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: