I rattled in dull blue uncertainty
until low-tread Maverick tires
threatened to blow
and the rims were
almost ready to fall off.
I fed water to the radiator
on every trip.
Finally got the thing re-cored.
The timing belt broke
on the way
to Salem, Oregon.
Aligning the wheels
would have cost more
than the car.
Yet I was snobbish
about my poverty
my Old Blue un-status symbol.
Proud to support myself
without any help.
Things have changed.
Education. Marriage.
I am no longer poor.
Now I’ve nowhere to go
but up to a shiny new red
Mazda.
With new wheels
I can tell my beat-up
beater friend
good-bye.
Good-bye dear
gas guzzler, oil burner.
Good-bye dear dented
left rear fender
that never got fixed.
Good-bye dull coat,
sandblasted by age,
you will never shine again.
We went places, you and I
but now I can watch you
being driven out of sight.
Good-bye old friend.
You did your best.
Good-bye sweet poverty
