Louise Marie DelSanto's 'The Station Wagon' 🚗: A Heartfelt Childhood Memory

I immediately thought of <br />the little boy down the street, Laurel Hill Elementary. <br />All of a five minute ride with <br />a short, stocky, curly-haired boy, looking like a <br />Charlie Brown character. <br /> <br />I sat in the back seat of his mother's <br />car: Station wagon smelling of dog, <br />sticky-fingered windows half-opened, <br />ripped vinyl seats, schoolbag filled with <br />his books, and a greasy lunchbag. <br /> <br />He told his mother he was in love; <br />the principle of first crushes, Spring giving <br />new meaning to holding hands, bubble gum, <br />penny-candy, laughing-at-nothing, a fake diamond <br />ring, the smell of his leather jacket. <br /> <br />It was the only thing he talked about, having <br />his first girlfriend. I wore flowery dresses and <br />patent leather shoes with my Easter pocketbook, <br />a small bottle of cheap cologne hidden within. <br /> <br />The scent of dogs and leather reminds me of <br />him. A ride in the back seat of that old Chevy <br />gave new meaning to a first grader. <br />Thankfully, no one heard my crinoline slip <br />when his mother stopped on a dime. <br /> <br />He never said anything to me in the morning. <br />His mother smoked Pall Malls, and chewed <br />a pack of Wrigleys before the first late bell, <br />the Station wagon always cold and musty, <br />the exhaust billowing trails of white clouds.<br /><br />Louise Marie DelSanto<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-station-wagon/