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My Car

My Car

so far

as possessions go

I’d say

my car

is close

it’s more than

transport

more than

storage

more than

four doors

and a roof

it’s personal

space

just enough

to sit

and think

or not think

or over think

I’ve window-watched

the wind

the rain

the snow

the fog

the glow

the clouds

the rays

the moon in all its phase

the night with all its stars

the not one

I’ve watched the leaves

grow back

in buds

and fall away

when fully formed

even now beneath

the bark

like daffodils

in the dark

here is where

I like to read

a book

or write

as I am

or listen to the silence

or too many songs

or my daughter talk

when she feels like

talking

our best talks

were in the car

parked

without distraction

she used to be a baby

in the back

now, she’s fixin’ to take

the wheel

my car is a time capsule

of sorts

a place to put

the tears

and laughter

and everything

in-between

a place to breathe

yeah, my car

is more than

A to B

it’s time

standing still

at rush-hour

TL

Published inPoetry