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My Father's Car

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Subject: My Father's Car
From: blackpoo...@aol.com (Frosty)
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by: Frosty - Thu, 22 Dec 2022 14:35 UTC

My Father's Car

"To the trunk", I heard.

TO THE TRUNK", a bit louder.

There, street corner, stood the '53 Ford, Black top Blue body
car where trips to Grandma's sauce on Sunday, became
ritual.

No one knew of the incarcerations, and in this case,
edging the lawn, not quite straight enough for approval.

It was a difficult tool, long handled, attached
to a spiked wheel and with enough downward force
you could edge that lawn where it meets sidewalk,
for a nice clean line.

I failed and that meant, into the trunk, though
summer was extremely hot, and I was kept there until
the lesson had been learned.

Next day, off to Grandma for sauce, no mention
of punishment being way out of line for the offense.

I could have died but learned to drop pants
for some kind of cooling.

Today, if I saw that car, I'd burn it down
even though a Google search told me the value was
$39,000.

Today, the trunk on my car, has a small pull, in case of accidently
getting locked in.

My father would have cut that off, but he's dead
and I must admit I smiled when they closed the lid.

My lawn edge, today, is razor sharp,
lesson learned.

Anonymous

Gloffing is a state of mine.

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