Ode to my Car

On the occasion of her 100,000th mile

I talk to my car,
probably too much
since she never answers.

She has taken me from Massachusetts
to Florida to the center of our country
in Kansas. We’ve witnessed
two solar eclipses together,
ten Perseid meteor showers
and untold starry nights.

I feel bad leaving her outside
when I visit a museum or library
but at least she gets to tramp
around the cemeteries with me.

She’s a great listener
as I rehearse on my way
to an open mic.
Inspiration regularly rolls
when I’m behind her wheel.

She’s not my muse
but she takes me there.


(The above image was taken last summer in Dawes Cemetery, Cummington, Mass. One of the few I found where my car was visible in the deep background.)

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About Bartholomew Barker

Bartholomew Barker is an organizer of Living Poetry, a collection of poets in the Triangle region of North Carolina where he has hosted a monthly feedback workshop for more than decade. His first poetry collection, Wednesday Night Regular, written in and about strip clubs, was published in 2013. His second, Milkshakes and Chilidogs, a chapbook of food inspired poetry was served in 2017. He was nominated for a Pushcart Prize in 2021. Born and raised in Ohio, studied in Chicago, he worked in Connecticut for nearly twenty years before moving to Hillsborough where he lives and writes poetry.
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7 Responses to Ode to my Car

  1. johnlmalone's avatar johnlmalone says:

    clever and respectful: I love this —

    Liked by 1 person

  2. johnlmalone's avatar johnlmalone says:

    oh, great ending too —

    Liked by 1 person

  3. berniebell1955's avatar berniebell1955 says:

    For car – can read dog!

    Liked by 1 person

  4. luvgoodcarp's avatar luvgoodcarp says:

    Sometimes the ride is more important than the destination.

    Liked by 1 person

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