some summer night 1991
on a familiar road
I stared out the window
of a black Chevy Camaro
Night Moves, by Bob Seger played low on the radio
it came on after the weather
which was a forecast of rain
but all I could see was a bright moon
dark tree lines in passing
from sitting in the back looking through a tinted window
everybody was quiet
all four of us
just lost in the shadowed sky
dark shades of blue, some grey, black…
…colours of a night painted
then someone lit a cigarette
and ask around for a draw
nobody said a word
and that was Ok
white broken lines flash in my face from here
in paved reflection
pinging my thoughts
triggering smiles
from something that happened a little earlier
wish I could go back
the moon enjoyed it too
you could tell by how long it stayed close
like we were best friends
so was the car
my friend I mean
at least for that night it was
when I think of it
I can still smell the leather
the smoke
the bad aftershave
the damp roads
jean jackets
and dried hair gel
some summer night in 1991
in a familiar memory
I get to stare out the window
and think of a black Chevy Camaro
Earth To Ash 
See?!!? Where there’s the faintest spark, there’s a poetic memory of a black Chevy Camaro…😁…And it sounds like you might stare out of the window a lot… Can’t blame you… ! As always, you fill the senses with your lines – I could see the dampened roads shiny in the moonlight, smell the leather, the smoke, the bad aftershave, the damp roads, jean jackets, and dried hair gel (sidenote: don’t get a job making scented candles…🤣…), and, of course, I’m gonna have Night Moves stuck in my head now…thanks 🤪… seriously, great job – you were apparently wanting to get some writing out of your system and now you’ve got it flowing – and I got to read about another day (or night, in this case) in the life of Young Ash, and you know how much I love that! 😊
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Thanks for your comment. Believe it or not, this poem was half written six years ago. I came across it again and relived the moment.
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