Auto Graveyard
On a little side road with not much traffic
near the junction of a state highway and an
interstate is a place I often drive by.
Old cars go there to die like old cats who crawl
away for privacy when their time has come.
Mostly the old cars die alone, but once in a while
a pair of them will stand together in their final hours.
This week one little blue car has been expiring slowly,
one indignity after another heaped upon it. Wind
whistles through broken windows, a tire is flat.
It stares dejectedly through its one remaining headlight,
mooning passers-by with its gaping trunk lid open.
The old car’s days are numbered - no friendly face has
greeted it for days. Its only visitors are vandals.
Soon it will be gone, leaving space for another ancient auto.