That Heavenly Car
by Cleo Griffith
Since I was a child of eight,
I’ve been reading of the great
flying car that everyone
will have (they say it’s nearly done),
and year by year, for over eighty,
I have scanned the broad sky nightly,
but nevermore does this car show
to us who wait here down below —
but hark! there’s yet more current news
that shortly now we will all cruise
from driveway up into the sky,
that treat is coming by and by,
but by the time it will arrive,
I doubt that I shall be alive,
but maybe when I reach that gate
of heaven, therein will await
the magic of that car supreme,
the flying car of life-long dream.
About the Poet
Cleo Griffith lives in California’s Central Valley, surrounded by almond trees, ground crops and poets. She is widely published in such journals as Main Street Rag, Straylight and Westward Quarterly. She has been on the editorial board of Song of the San Joaquin since it began in 2003.
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