Today's poem is by Ronald Wallace


The day was totaled. Its hood and fenders bent.
Its tires flat. Its front end out of alignment.
Its headlights smashed. Its windshield cracked and crazed.
So why should he get out of bed? He lazed
around all morning as the patient cloud
cover wrote its depressing estimates. For crying out loud,
he thought, when the claims adjuster gave him the news,
all sunshine and cheer about how the future'd refuse

to pay him what it was worth—this day that once
was bright and new, where he, behind the wheel,
could cruise the hi- and byways, not an ounce
of doubt or depression, high on the heady feel
of horsepower and fancy options. The sun in the sky's
blue showroom motions him over, all fast talk and lies.

Copyright © 2003 Ronald Wallace All rights reserved
from The Gingko Tree Review
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission

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