Fifty Four Willys
It was my Willys Aero
in that sagging wood garage.
A reminder of a better time,
like a withered prom corsage.
Its faded skin was green and white
and covered up with dust.
It sat on flat and rotting tires,
its nose cone flecked with rust.
I bought four Mohawk recaps,
it lifted from the ground.
I added battery, points, and plugs
and the engine came around.
I had the outside painted black.
New interior, red and white.
Colored paper covered the dome light,
to enhance the mood at night.
It had two hump like tail fins
like its cousin Henry J.
And was followed by a light blue smoke
as the Casite burned away.