summer mourning
whispers of yesterday’s burn stain my cheeks pink
the hazy morning glow of sunshine catching
dappled flecks of green through my squinting eyes
golden light cascading through my windshield
the cleanliness of my wiped-down dashboard illuminated
white exterior sponge-washed and doused by may’s scattered storms
glovebox emptied of all articles once lost or recently found
the salesman at the run-down car wash threw me his pitch—
“leather seats need conditioning, ‘else they’ll lose their shape”
but i haven’t had the heart to erase your moulded frame.
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Love all the vivid imagery in this poem!