My Car

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John liked to drive
And rebelled at passenger status
Fond of my new Tesla
The spaceship from Fremont
He let the reins go
So the horse took off.
His visits now are rare
But somehow I see him in my car
On my roadtrips.
Is he seeking a little fun
Or a quick ride to Heaven?
Perhaps he doesn’t trust me
Always the backseat driver
Or is it a place for a captive audience?
I was always safe with him at the wheel
I would gladly give it to him now
If he asked, “Erica, can I drive?”
I would say, “Sure, honey, I’ll pull over.”
But his earthly driving days are done
And now I hope his carriage is adorned
With all that he loves
And the GPS knows his destination.