My ’59 Ford Pickup

I’ve had cars that are
Fast and shiny
Spotless and flashy
With hi-tech devices

Cars that are sporty
With removeable tops
Leather interiors and
Turbo engines

0 to 60 in 3.9

Cars that are trusty
Dependable
Plain inside and out
That start up every time
No matter how hot or cold

But I gave them away
One by one
None of them had what it took
To fill my particular heart
With what it wanted to hold

Then I found it one day
When I wasn’t shopping
It caught my eye
And I never looked back

A 59 Ford pickup

It had a few dents
Rust in places
It had seen a lot of miles
It was black, my favorite color
With a rip in the driver’s seat

It only started
Every tenth time
I got in and turned the key

So I parked it in the shade
Of a weeping willow
And talked to it more
Than I drove it

I gave it baths
Kept it gassed up
Waxed it now and then
So that it would be ready
When it got ready
To take me for a ride

And on those days
When it started up
I’d roll the windows down
Crank up the music
Throw my head back
And drive till the tank was empty

I’d come home late
And go to bed
Tired but happy from my joyride
Remembering the sound
Of its purring engine
The feel of my hands on the wheel

I was crazy for that pickup
I never wanted another

I kept that truck as long as I could
As long as time allowed
Until one day it started no more
Its way of saying goodbye

It thought I should get a Ferrari

But I’d had enough driving
So I turned in my license
There’s too much risk involved
Too much potential for head-on collision
I figured I’d rather walk

But sometimes late at night
When my heart aches
And I just can’t sleep

I walk out into the yard
Over to the weeping willow

And lay my head upon the windshield
Trail my hand over the hood
Drape my body across the tailgate
And listen to the sound of a song

That I only ever heard

While driving with the radio off
In my 59 Ford pickup

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