Poem for her 863

Dear Readers,


City Driving

The car in the parking lot was silent
It liked to sit and wait
Yet it also like the roar of engine
Wind buffeting by as she drove
The car was a Camaro

There was another one in the city
Sitting at a curb
Waiting for the owners to get back
They were over by a picnic table
The sun shone through the trees

The Cars talked to each other
Over the distance
Whispering secrets
No one but the birds understood
Flight
Fast flight

Off near a cabin in the woods
Three birds set up a table of sticks
Making a race track
Whispering about a Jeep they all knew


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.