Robert Edgar Burns (02/14/1953 / Dunedin, Florida)
There I was in my cowboy boots
Just a leaning up against that car,
A nineteen fifty one Hudson Hornet,
A former winning Indy car!
Metallic blue with silver flakes,
Two carbs underneath her hood.
I won’t forget that my very first car,
With the girl there looked mighty good.
Heads would turn all over town
Whenever I’d go driving by.
Especially when I was gassing up,
A quarter per gallon seemed especially high!
One day at the Little General,
A popular convenience store,
I went inside for peanuts and pop
But forgot to shut my door.
A man was leaning inside my car
When I exited that establishment.
I imagined he liked the interior,
And the dashboard ornaments.
He stood upright and winked at me,
Telling me I had a beauty there.
I thanked him with a prideful smile,
And said “Would you like to see the spare? ”
“I’m not speaking about your trunk
You silly little teenage boy.”
“It’s that angel in your front seat,
She’s better than your four wheeled toy! ”
After forty one years I miss that car
More than one story could ever tell.
But that angel from my car seat,
Still has me in her loving spell.
Comments about this poem (Hudson Hornet by Robert Edgar Burns )
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