Precious Cargo
Her cargo was precious, family jewel.
She loaded her daughter into Dad's car.
Car seat required by law, Dad had the best.
Firmly strapped, now traffic to entertain.
She pulled out gingerly onto the way.
Take the expressway today, she hurried.
It wasn't always like this, she recalled.
From teenage driving she had honed her skills.
Dad would keep some golf balls on the console,
they had better all be there next morning.
If even one was on the floor Dad knew,
he knew and she heard, "cornering too fast."
Watch that truck, it's veering from lane to lane!
Toy with it, like the racer she still was?
When she was six she raced her bicycle.
On her racer bike, she would come in first.
She'd learned from racing in pinewood derbies.
Her car was pretty blue, it always won.
Dad helped with mechanics, she did the paint.
Today though, no racing, she'd stay in line.
Her cargo was precious, her only girl.
That girl she hoped would win races, her own,
driving her car that Grandpa helped to carve.
She'd paint it pretty, prettier than Mom's.
Photos and Poem Copyright © (Photos 2009, 2011) (Poem 2014) Jimmiehov All Rights Reserved
I'm linked today with the Real Toads, Kerry Says: Create that Flashback Moment!
Kerry's challenge today was to incorporate the element of flashback narrative into a poem. This could be based on real experience or entirely imaginary, but it should have a purpose in creating the emotional mood or background to the present situation depicted.
Pictured is KP, my youngest grand-daughter. You can see more picture of KP driving here.
Oh, how lovely, Jim. Such fond memories of the all important driving lessons. I think the idea of the golf balls is excellent. You grand-daughter is a treat for sore eyes!
ReplyDeleteNice response to the challenge, and one look at your photo brought the pinewood derbies back to mind.
ReplyDeleteLOVE this, the precious cargo, the reverie....and especially the photo of that precious beautiful little face. Sigh. I miss little girls. I just have little boys in my world. They're nice. But one little girl, too, would be SO nice!
ReplyDeleteWhat a great read, loved the golf balls!
ReplyDeletewhat a wonderful memory
ReplyDeleteJim, I loved your comment on my 55 chevy poem........our little town was like American Graffiti - we would drive down one side of the main street through City Park then back along the other side of the street, Seeing and Being Seen. Oh the memories. I am so sorry about your friend's death - what a horrifying death that was. Wow. Thanks for sharing. I so appreciate it.
ReplyDeleteThis is wonderful! I love the adorable picture.
ReplyDeleteprecious indeed sir.
ReplyDeletegosh i just love this, Jim! truly, it is wonderful. golf balls on the console? now there's a great trick i just might steal in a few years. thanks so much for this.
ReplyDeleteLove your flashback...my father taught me to drive with much grumbling..lol
ReplyDeleteThe golf balls is such a good idea, unless of course they rolled onto the floor and were put nicely back in place. Smiles. Your granddaughter is so cute and precious cargo to have on board, nicely penned Jim.
ReplyDeleteThis is very cleverly realized--the golf balls make it especially vivid! k.
ReplyDeleteWonderful movement from gold balls to her tricycle and daring. The daughter is definitely more precious than the golf balls, a reason not to repeat the past!
ReplyDeleteAwesome and cute photo! The phrase "cornering too fast" tickled us, Dr Jim :)
ReplyDelete