Remember when I moved to town?
You wore thick, black-rimmed glasses.
I, unsure of my place in the world.
An old, green, Chevrolet Impala
Drove us up and down Main Street,
Sitting like Siamese twins,
Closer than safety probably allowed.
One arm around my shoulder
You drove with the other.
It was a perfect fit,
The beginning of my place in the world.
After we tired of driving up Main
Through the Dairy Queen parking lot,
Down Main and around the courthouse square,
To begin the trip again,
We drove to the cotton patch.
Solitude, silence and stillness,
The old green car became
A fast, red one, along
With our relationship.