Ol' Betsy
--by Francene Hopkins -- sent in by jack elam
Ol' Betsy, that's what Daddy called her:
His '49 Ford pickup truck.
Dark green body and standard floor shift;
We rode 'round town without a miss.
Do you remember, Brother,
when far from home we would travel,
arriving in a stately fashion,
following the jobs of Daddy's union?
Remember camping under a tree
and swimming in a nearby creek?
Ol' Betsy became our bed that night.
Remember the stars? Remember the quiet?
Remember the haunted house we moved into,
and apples falling on its tin roof?
Remember the screech owl we couldn't see?
We were convinced a mountain lion was in a tree!
Remember sleeping on the floor,
as down the road Ol' Betsy did roar?
Remember smells of oil
Windshield wipers flapping?
Ol' Betsy's headlights shining down the road,
showing Daddy which way to go?
Do you remember any of these things, Brother,
or, have you gotten much too old?
Ol' Betsy and you are the same age, you know!
Remember your dear, sweet, YOUNGER sister?