Letting Go Poem by Fred Odom

I, I fear...
I fear my vehicle is on its last ‘legs.'
It has a terrible cough when prompted to life in the morning,
When it deigns to turn over at all.
After all, it has a lot of mileage on it.
In denial, I thought the key was wearing out.
My mechanic just stared at me in disbelief.
Granted, the miles have not been easy ones,
But it IS a one owner vehicle.

I realized it has seen a lot of winters, steep climbs,
Runs across the desert…back and forth
Numerous times.
I thought a kindred spirit was Forest Gump.
Alas, was not to be.
There were of course, on balance
Parkings at sunset at ocean's shore
Reflecting on the beauty of the day's sky at dusk
And nightfall in the summer's sky to marvel at the shooting stars
From nearby meteor showers
Reflected on the lake below our vantage, and
Impromptu runs to see the Spring poppies and heather
Bloom in the mountain pass nearby.

It seems to take more gas to get anywhere,
Downshifting up even small hills in commonplace,
Its windows appear to have developed cataracts,
Its fabric is thinned and cracked in places
Requiring special weekly moisturizing.
The backs supports need extra support, and
Its top is graying in some spots
Absent altogether in others.
It needs additives to prevent backfires.
It used to burn rubber,
Now the black smoke is from the muffler at idle.
My radio prefers to play dirges, regardless
Of the station it is tuned to.

My mechanic refuses a decision to let it go
In trade in.
I fear he has a vested interest
In maintaining frequent visits,
Until the big black tow truck
Hauls it away to the ‘yard' for… for…for
For spare parts.

I worry about its mentation.
It seems to lurch at stoplights
When semitrailer trucks approach the intersection.
The engine sputters and dies as we coast down the grade to our home.
The horn seems to only intermittently work as
Oncoming cars in our lane approach.
It appears at least a palliative care consult is needed
From our vehicle's insurer.
I fear the worst.
The end of the road may be near.