I passed one on the freeway today
smoking a bit at the tailpipe
lugging 200,000 miles or so
taillight out on the left
sagging bumper on the right
rust around the wheel wells
Used to be red, I imagine
Keep chugging, old girl, I muttered
my tires have gone as bald as yours
Haven’t the rubber to peel out now
but we still can haul the loads
though we do start slow
on chilly mornings
Randy Minnich is a retired research chemist and chemistry professor. He now focuses on writing, environmental issues, and grandchildren. He is a member of the Squirrel Hill Poetry Workshop and has published two books, Wildness in a Small Place and Pavlov's Cats: Their Story. His poetry has appeared in Main Street Rag, Pearl, U.S. 1 Worksheets, Blueline, and other publications. He seems to be writing more about aging, these days, and suspects it's because his friends are getting old.
