Twenty years ago I watched in awe as my dad drove up the driveway.
More than proud to have a brand new family car.
Thirty miles to the gallon, 0 to 60, sometimes.
I remember putting down the back seat and lying in the hatchback.
Looking at the sky watching trees go by.
I was the son of a preacher,
And he was a rich poor man.
And no regrets,
in my Chevette.
The winter cracked the highway and
We tried to dodge the potholes.
He never promised us it would be a gentle ride.
He never had a problem though
Keeping it on the narrow road.