Old Cars and New Babies

Old Cars and New Babies


Cold morning still dark and your breath is visible
there's a grinding under the hood
that makes your eyes see somewhere else
a gap in the flow of everything
just big enough to crawl inside
urging for that engine to catch
before the battery falters
hopeful with each whirr of the starter
while that exact right moment of combustion
skids and falters
like plastic grocery bags down a windy alley

Each breath this infant takes
could come out either way
with what seems like hours of crying
under his belt, under my skin
and cinched up my back tight
a break in the action yawn
could just as well end in a yell
or a sigh sometimes a gurgle even
and once forked off on a different path
will momentum carry it onwards
or back into inconsolable mysteries?
I catch each breath
and hold it
hoping his starter will catch
and compel him back to calm.


W. Joe Hoppe
........from his book GALVANIZED