An Ode Overheard In A Scrapyard
by Drew May
I wear my blue paint proudly,
though battle-scarred and torn,
My wheels still shine,
though caked with grime,
On this frozen autumn morn.
Bits of my smile are missing,
the vultures come at dawn,
to nickel and dime
through rust and time
and sale signs on the lawn.
I once caressed the asphalt,
Rubber knuckles worn bare,
From curve to curve
the weather seemed always fair.
Feeling ancient, borrowed, used,
time turned on me for the worse,
No longer reliable,
willing or pliable,
my travels became my curse.
Then a trial was posed to me,
a fate I did not foresee,
A bottling truck,
A sickening clunk,
“Written off” was your decree.
But I wear my blue paint proudly,
though battle scarred and torn,
My wheels still shine
For I’ve paid my time
My passion will be reborn.
Author's Note: The strangest things will speak to you in the strangest places.
Posted on 11/05/2010
Copyright © 2022 Drew May
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by A. Paige White on 11/05/10 at 12:28 PM|
I have indeed lived the truth of your author's note. Having recently worked for a short time in a galvanizing plant, this one particularly spoke to me. While I was there I had their poster of the West Virginia "Mountaineer" talk a bunch of junk to me when my view of his face (helmeted of course) was obscured with a lamp shade sporting one star, like you see on houses all over the place up here. I really enjoyed this poem because it brought that mountaineers whispers back to my remembrance. Thank you!
|Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 11/05/10 at 10:38 PM|
My husband could see the gold and shine under all the battle scars. This is my kind of rhyme, a unique theme, a nice dash of humor. Thank you.
|Posted by Linda Fuller on 11/06/10 at 02:51 PM|
Really enjoy this one.
|Posted by Gregory R Schelske on 04/06/12 at 09:23 AM|
Wow. I will say it again, wow. What a great read this was.
|Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 05/23/17 at 04:03 AM|
Good to read this again. Congrats on POTD!