I saw her there the other day Left there to just rot ‘n rust away Setting alone under a sad old tree She is back in a field; hard to see Probably a year ‘30 or ‘32 I don’t know Her tires ‘are flat; bumper is hanging low Her windows broken; seat is torn and tattered Her body’s been bruised; lo it’s been battered With time the old are retired and stashed away Even though she surely was a beauty in her day But beauty fades when the road’s too long When tires on the road no longer can sing their song So the curtain was drawn on the road ahead And her tires on the road will no longer tread
Copyright © Donald J Bennett