Thursday, January 31, 2008

Thinking about an empty garage

This was going to be a humorous piece about why I can't park in my garage, but it became something else.

Dual carbs, tail lights, shifter knob, oil pans, metric wrenches, parts catalogs, heater box, rebuilt engine, blue headlights, rust spots, gas leaks, tow bar, young man, old car. About to fly the coop, make his mama cry, take the guitar, see the world or a part near by, head for freedom, be the boss, no more nagging, garbage bagging, room cleaning, home at one. One day a three year old, 3rd grader, thirteen, out of school, job worker, thirsty for what, must find out, music and friends know, laugh, call, drive, eat, watch life like a movie. Help needed to let go, hush the din, thoughts, hopes, prayers, colliding emotions, memories slammed in the door of an old car, making its way out of the garage and down the drive to somewhere.


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