Old Blue

Poor old Blue Car
we traveled together for a lot of miles.
You served me well.
You didnt ask for anything.
Just a little gas and a high ready heart 
for the road ahead.
You were tired and battered and dented
with pieces falling off.
Your brakes and doors didnt work.
But your engine started 
every single time.
You never let me down.

It felt like putting a dog down
leaving you at the wrecker's.
I patted you,
thanked you,
felt a pang as I turned away.

I loved the way you looked
when I came out of a store
to find you in the parking lot.
Staunch, steadfast, faithful, waiting,
True Blue.

Thank you for those many miles
we journeyed together,
for carrying my Pupster to all the wild places,
for transporting all my little passengers
to parks and trails and rivers and lakes
and the ice cream store.

You hold a lot of history 
inside your battered body,
as do I.
As do I. 

I hung a feather in my jaunty new little red car,
am grateful for its brakes and tires and engine.
But it will never take your place.
The ride will never be True Blue,
in quite the way it was with you.