Lawrence Hall
[email protected]
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com
The ’57 Chevy in the Woods
The shell of a Chevy rusted in the woods
Almost lost in the blackberry bushes
All of its windows broken, the front bashed in
Pale creepers writhing in and out and down
A kind man gave his son this car, they said
The boy wrecked out and died at hot rod speed
His daddy had the car towed into the weeds
Not knowing what else to do in his despair
We carelessly flung pine cones at the corpse
Then in our shame slunk quietly away
May 28, 2021
May 28, 2021 at 10:43 AM UTC
Lawrence Hall
[email protected]
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com
The ’57 Chevy in the Woods
The shell of a Chevy rusted in the woods
Almost lost in the blackberry bushes
All of its windows broken, the front bashed in
Pale creepers writhing in and out and down
A kind man gave his son this car, they said
The boy wrecked out and died at hot rod speed
His daddy had the car towed into the weeds
Not knowing what else to do in his despair
We carelessly flung pine cones at the corpse
Then in our shame slunk quietly away
A poem is itself.