I have a little yellow car,

I’ve had a prang or two –

But never hit a moving object – yet –

As my family will remind me, so derisively,

But I reply in terms they won’t forget.

 

It’s beyond my comprehension

How a post gets in the way

When I’m reversing from a parking space.

But a horrid bang reminds me

That I’ve turned the wheel too soon

And I chide myself, and feel I’m a disgrace.

 

The excess in insurance would keep me for a month –

But so what, I tell myself, it’s only money.

And if I didn’t have it, have to ask my kids for help,

The atmosphere, I know would not be sunny.

 

So I live to drive another day,

No stationary objects in my way.