The Old Girl
The Old Girl
Yep, I bought her back in the 30’s,
Right in the middle of the depression,
Man who sold Lizzie to me cried real tears,
I’ve remembered that through the years.
Many a mile she has rolled us,
Through the desert in the dark of night,
Running hot and carrying water,
That was the way, all right.
To Grandmother’s house we drove,
Year after year on our two weeks free,
(But lucky I was to have a job),
While the babes slept sound in the leather back seat.
Oh, the memories we have on those sandy trips,
Exhausted from bouncing on rough roads,
Stopping and cranking and gassing up,
Hushing the girls with a comfort stop.
I stalled her in 1940, got a Chevy ’36,
But kept her like the good horse she is,
New paint, new oil, retired to show,
Come on, I’ll give you a whizz.
This is what my Dad might have written about his old Model T Ford.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
