The ’39 Mercedes Ssk Poem by Resten Swondo
The ’39 Mercedes Ssk
In her day, she was nothing but a nice ride,
But she had been ridden into the ground;
She coughs and splutters among cats,
Her cold dream cracks a dry walnut dash.
She still opens herself to any passing man
Offering more than her junkyard nothing.
Now, old and broken, parked in the yard,
Her rusting bodywork inspires restorers.
Sunday, April 11, 2010
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5/3/2024 3:39:01 AM # 1.0.0.1119
