A Birthday for Rusty

 

It started some time ago.  It was getting harder to get around.  The worn and bald tires – like tennis shoes that had outlived their time, hurt with each mile.

Then the headlights began to dim.  It was like they had cataracts, with old and yellowed lenses, it became very hard to see.

Of course, my body ached all over and it seemed that with each trip to the body shop, they’d burn something off  me.

My spark was gone long ago and it is impossible to turn over.

I can still remember some of the adventures we had.  Looking back, I think it was the roads in Michigan that did me in.