Mustang For A Pinto

To see a picture of someone you knew
so long ago, and then to know they’re gone…
Why her, him – not me?
Not that I’m noble, it’s just… I cared.
I remember when the picture was taken,
it could have been yesterday…
the memory so vivid.
Though the print is now faded,
and the clothing we wore;
the car we drove… both dated.
That makes me smile…
Traded in a 1966 Ford Mustang for a Pinto…
Mustang for a Pinto…
I should’ve thought about that.

Millpond Ink Poetry, 2016, edited June 2022