’70 Chevelle
A dream I once held in the past passed away today
with the final sell of my father’s ’70 Chevelle.
See, the dusty shell was not just an old car
but a hope to rebuild and journey through memory.
My parents went on their honeymoon to French Lick
with bold black stripes across the stark red hood.
I recently came across a photograph of these moments
snapped thirty-six years ago as of last month
in my search for my mother’s youth
as she slowly slips with the cancer in her head.
February of ’84 saw several feet of snow
mixed with influenza that failed to ruin romance.
Perhaps I’ve never seen the kind of money in cash
it takes to purchase a dream like the hotrod I never got
the chance to take a ride in on a warm sunny day,
but there still is family and a little time for us to spend.
About the Author: Tim Heerdink is the author of The Human Remains, Red Flag and Other Poems, Razed Monuments, and short stories, The Tithing of Man and HEA-VEN2. His poems appear in Poetry Quarterly, Fish Hook, Flying Island, Auroras and Blossoms, Kissing Dynamite, Tanka Journal, and various anthologies. He is President of Midwest Writers Guild of Evansville, Indiana.
Image Credit: John Margolies “Uniroyal Tire, I-94, Dearborn, Michigan” (1986) The Library of Congress
As It Ought To Be 