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The Back Seat

When you sit in the front of the car Then you know that wherever you are You can see what’s ahead (If there’s traffic, with dread) And have views that can stretch near and far. But if somehow, you’re stuck in the back Then a sense of perspective you’ll lack. You can stare out the sides Into other folks’ rides Or at scenery codes you can’t crack. Sitting way in the back makes me feel Like a kid with my dad at the wheel When my worries were few And I had not a clue Of what life in the back could conceal.

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Robert Johnson

Date: 8/27/2023 7:23:00 PM

Another enjoyable poem ilene. My sister and I used to sit in the back seat on trips and play with my dads loose skin on his elbow when he had it out stretched on the back of the seat. We could make it a big dimple.

Maurice Rigoler

Date: 8/27/2023 9:18:00 AM

Ilene, I marvel at the ease your rhymed lines flow! These 3 beck seat limericks have much that's so true! Brava! (female version of bravo!) . Maurice

Jan Allison

Date: 8/27/2023 4:59:00 AM

Fabulous poem as ever my friend. My worries were great when dad was driving especially in his older years!! in the end I refused to even get in the car - he was a liability! hugs Jan xx