Rearview Mirror Poem by Mark Heathcote

Life is a long open road
with few pit stops or fuelling stations
many therefore check the rearview mirror
as it's a road over ravines and mountains
with many twists and cliff-top turns.

At times we'll sleep at the wheel
break self-isolation laws and speed limits
or park in some sleazy 'pull-out.'
Deflated, we check the rearview mirror
and wonder where it all went.

Where it all went wrong
our destination could be Route 66
begging not to be a fly on the windscreen
but migrate to meet the California sunshine.
Melt-like grease tires even in the snow.

Tank-empty, rearview mirror steamed.
Baby, I'm yours
'I could be your Santa Claus.'
Your hibernation get-out clause
'I drive a Ford Mustang' like I'm a wild horse.