49 CHEVY

He looked like our 49 Chevy,
the austere model without the chrome;
lots of room under the hood
for the diehard theories;
a gaping trunk
with a few laughs and a handy rage;
a big wheel with three on the column
to steer clear of intimacy.

I have this image in my head:
I’m out in front somehow,
impossibly floating ahead,
looking through the windshield.
He’s gripping the wheel, about 50,
thick, graying, auburn hair,
dark, full eyebrows,
eyes on the road;
he’s by himself,
doesn’t know I’m there.

He sold the old Chevy
for a hundred bucks to a friend
who put it up on blocks
and left it there.

THE OCCASIONAL FIRE

POEMS
Life Scroll
Spirit Wings
Death in the Family
Flight Chief
Legacy
Honeymoon Photo, October, 1939
49 Chevy
The Seed of Me
We Drove East on Highway 10 to Ritzville
Land of Rest
On Allison's Leaving
Telecom's Bequest
Starbucks, Tuesday, 3:36 p.m.
Action Still
Vital Meaning
Fools

HYMNS
God will not let us go
The rising sun blazed out of night
Light! Light! A shattering light
Worship the Lord
As a doe

ABOUT MARK RHOADS