GUILFORD — Things fall apart
and sometimes things are
cars. When this is so
our wheels are towed
to Richmond's. We turn
from Coolidge Highway
into gratitude.
* * *
Weathered as our state
(where all seasons mingle
in a single week),
avuncular, soft-spoken
by the register, Doug, you
welcome mystery-
* * *
our burnt-out bearings,
slipping clutches, fading brakes,
discharging alternators,
shiftless transmissions,
broken timing belts or hearts.
* * *
At nightfall, sun polishes
with tenderness like yours
our aging rust and chrome.
* * *
O, Doug,
adjust our metaphors,
create within the vroom,
the om.