Grandpa’s Old Sedan

Frost clinging to the trees and grass,

we wandered ’cross the farm,

and happened on the rusted shell

          of Grandpa’s old sedan.

A memory of days long past,

one time could never harm,

now decades past the new-car smell

          of Grandpa’s old sedan.

There was a time it went quite fast,

this relic, past the barn;

each dent and scratch, a story tells,

          of Grandpa’s old sedan.

As his first love, its role was cast.

before his call-to-arms,

life’s imprint in each metal cell

          of Grandpa’s old sedan.

It might have been the price of gas,

which far outpaced its charm,

that sounded out the last death knell

          of Grandpa’s old sedan.

A remnant that was built to last,

no seat belts or alarms,

yet magic lives within the spell

          of Grandpa’s old sedan.

(c) 2016 - dustygrein

**Note: This is a modified Kyrielle. It is written in iambic common meter (alternating tetrameter and trimeter lines) and is a bit different by virtue of its rhyme scheme: abcR, abcR, etc.