Beat up ’62 Impala

flirting with the wind

midday sun on my back

leather seat baking my skin

siren cooing in the distance

dj spinning out tunes

I stop

right here

on the shoulder

and dance like no there’s no one in sight

embraced now by the rhythm

it holds me long and tight

rockin’

teasin’

groovin’

a wild bird taking flight

beat up ’62 Impala

clanking down the road

the only sound I hear

is the chain, chain, chain

chain of fools

Hedda Colossi is a resident of East Windsor and a member of the Twin Rivers Writer’s Group.

Facebook Comments