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DESTINATION OCCIDENTAL - THE DRIVE

Piling in the Mercury station wagon,
green with faux wood paneling
Following the strict hierarchy.
Eldest in the front seat, with dad at the helm.
The middles on the middle seat.
The younger sibs, me included,
on the back, rumble style, seats

Embarking on our 125 mile trek
Driving up the 101,
19th avenue, San Francisco,
cross the Golden Gate
The 8-track playing the same tape,
a broad collection of parent-era pop
over and over and over.
It came with the car when purchased.
Remained the sole selection for years.
Roger Whittaker’s “New World In The Morning”
burned, permanently into my brain

Turning into town
We spot the gold Pontiac station wagon,
that one day, to me, would be reluctantly bequeathed.
With the cool, curved back window,
equipped with curb feelers,
compass glued to the dash.
Its occupants, grandma and grandpa,
Waiting at the Italian hotel entrance.
He wearing the signature Panama,
Button-down cardigan
I can still remember the comforting musk
of that sweater...he was a loving man.
Written by Gahddess_Worship (Osomajestuoso)
Published
Author's Note
NaPo/GloPoWriMo poem #17.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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