Magnolia Tree

I saw you behind the pecan tree
in the front yard arboretum
your condensed size
limbs spindly few
exotic leaves sparse
as city stars
no sun to finesse them

we had a dialogue
my hand on your trunk
a prayer
babying your roots
in summer hose water

one year
infrequent white flowers grew
a blue jay built its nest
in your fragrant hideout
a sign from the tree gods
4 hatchlings nurtured
from your small
tenacious heart

the drought came
the ground a cracked stone
the hose like a skinny pregnant snake
unable to deliver
enough water

trees die in slow motion
like they grow
their spirit shrivels
into the ground
an afterlife dream
in the subterranean mycelian
the dark world
promising new life

I had no idea this would be so emotional.  I have had many cars in my life, but this one felt different, even though it was often a love/hate thing happening many of the 11 years we were together.  There was a sexiness about it… a strong appeal to drive it like no other, save a baby blue Karmann Ghia I had years ago.  Oh, and how could I ever forget the fun-to-drive VW Bug… a fond experience all to its own.

I will miss my 2003 Mini Cooper.  It sat on our driveway for the last six months, till a neighbor finally came over to ask if we would like to sell it.  I think I was avoiding this all along… just did not want to face letting it go, even though it was not running.  

I will miss how you held the road, your zippy performance and how you continued to turn heads, even after all these years.  I will miss your sweet humming engine, your beautiful form and the ease of which to parallel park you.  I will especially miss those long road trips, music playing with windows and sunroof wide open. But alas, I will not miss your fussiness… your expensive ability to break internally and always when money was tight.  But hey, looking back, one should not to remember those not-so-pleasant times.

I did love this car.  If the car gods are listening, I hope (pray) that it will find its new life more rewarding.  The kind man who bought it, who just happens to be a mechanic, graciously told me that he was going to make it "nice again" for his own use.  As I felt a little heartsick, this part did make me smile, my anxiety relieved that it will not be sold for parts.

Feeling slightly teary-eyed, I bid you farewell my lovely, and many happy, sweet dreams traveling on the road, once again.