Ode To My Truck II
Old and battered
Wrecked and reborn
Therapy for another
Even when disabled
Now two years hence
My truck refused to aquiesce
It cranked though it was declared junk,
Rolled despite a crushed fender
And radiator.
It rested for two years
In a friends garage awaiting
A new purpose
Spawned by jobs collapsing
Like its crumpled fender
His keeper confused and angry
Found life and desire
With every fender pull
Every hood pound bend and jump
Every shade tree mechanic trick
Until it started and rolled anew
My truck's saviour walks a little straighter
A sense of accomplishment imprinted
With each step
As I touched the rough and bumpy fender
I felt a rush of loss made whole
And smiled
Poetry by Kee Zealy
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Written on 2009-04-10 at 20:07
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melanie sue |