I don’t know why I have made
a monument of myself
sitting chin-in-hand upon
an overturned bucket
it is too hot a day and I
should move to the shade
but I instead I sit and watch
all the inaction happening
before my eyes
the brown grass does not move
but from time-to-time a bug’s flight
will deceive me into blinking
I could walk over to where
red and ivory sweep together
ignore the age-freckled chrome
twist a few wires together
and resuscitate her
with a cough and a roar
maybe
or press radio buttons and
make a blast of Jan and Dean
startle sleeping redbirds
she is missing three tyres
and the fourth is flat
but I shall sit and listen
to the tireless crickets
and she shall sit and look
innocently at me
holding the 1960s in
her rusting archaeology
Silver trophy winner
Adding your comment:
) 
Hopefully you do well in the contest, this is a stunning masterpiece!! Thanks for sharing a bit o' Americanna's nostalgia!!! 
Peace, Cyn 
Aye, they are nocturnal creatures. 
