My Dad's Old Plymouth-(Triolet) Poem by Glenn Bagshaw

My Dad's Old Plymouth-(Triolet)



So the steering wheel showed a ship
in my dad's coupe from years ago.
Cars in boys' mind-brakes just won't slip
so the steering wheel showed a ship.
The fresh-minted smell! Brewed-air sip!
Glow-flown style; blur-torn, roam-wild show!
So the steering wheel showed a ship
in my dad's coupe from years ago!

Wednesday, January 3, 2007
Topic(s) of this poem: dad
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