Ode to a Pontiac Sunbird: Remebering Time In My Father's Car

O! Pontiac Sundbird
gleaming aquamarine
hurtling us through time and space
We grew up in that car
We grew up in that place.

To us, a chattering trio,
life is exciting, wild
dancing, drumming
singing to our own beat
Beatific in sleek, shiny
two-door splendour

We are talk, talk, talking
across the Lakeshore
-broken hearts, bedpans, bottlenecks-
through the Don Valley
-"the Art of Bookmaking"-
along curvaceous Pottery Road
- Coming forth out of Egypt!-

We retrace city lines
cityscapes carry us to sacred sites
RIP: Eglington Theatre, Obi's Restaurant, House with the Blue Steps
RIP: Planetarium, Foodworks, Big City Improv

Racing raindrops
leaving trails
on the windshield
wiped away by wipers
merging/converging
making room for new
possibilities
I wonder:
Who is Roger Ashby?
And how does he fit in the radio?

We barrel through the streets
on our unending quest for the "BEST"
The BEST chocolate éclair
The BEST tuna sub
The BEST deal on a double tape deck
Yes! Always the best!

Driving into the heart of the city
Driving into the heart of
a million crazy thoughts, Dairy Queen Blizzards,
raging parties and late night dinners

Watching city streetlight stars
pass by the window
amber light halos
again grey-black sky
from my backseat bed.

Yes, Pontiac Sunbird
You were my cradle
my playground
our own personal time machinehurtling us through time and space.