Its steel blue frame pauses
Arrested in its path
Trembling on the pock-marked tires
And proving pitty in its sight
Behind the wheel the driver
Sits and stares in ignoranceh
He never watched her run
Some twenty years ago
Ignite, accelerate
Roar down a strip of road alive
With her backseat reeking of sex
As burnt rubber lagged to memory
Now it sputters and fades
Around the corner
Sounding of rust and age.
Matt Greenblatt
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/an-old-camaro/
