1956 chevy green

This look captures my father’s 1956 Chevy

At the corner I’d wait

for chrome fenders to signal closure

to my father’s work day.


When his green care drove up,

I’d climb in as front passenger,

and talk a stream while the poor man

drove and listened.


I remember, too, his gold chariot

spewing green fluid on

its first drive,


and eating pizza when

the sea-green horse

would soon be joining us.


A month before he died,

my father told me he’d soon

have another car.


That next month, in a room of coffins,

some ornate enough

for French kings,


near the back I saw

one blue and metal-fendered

like a Buick or Chevy.


That one I chose.

About jalesy55

Charles Lupia is a playwright, freelance writer and lawyer. His blogs cover a range of topics, from politics to entertainment.
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