The stuff of legends – a ’56 Nash,
not so much the auto as the incident.
Three-year old sitting in the front seat
decades before seat belt and child care laws.
Days of cruising for chicks and
making heads turn as the big fat tires squeal.
Quickly rounding the corner
and before you know it
there’s a baby in your rear view mirror,
passenger side door swinging wide open.
That got you some attention.
Later, confined to a bus,
the three year old plots.
A warm, wet sensation
spreads over your legs
and the scent of wet wool
imprints on your brain forever.