Tales Of The Old Town (Part 04) Poem by Kim Barney

My sister and her friends were in
a car that rolled and rolled.
Not badly hurt was anyone,
so let the tale be told:

There were no seat belts in those days,
so how did they escape?
Eight people packed into one car!
They hardly got a scrape.

My brother and I fought a lot;
that's just what brothers do,
but now we are the best of friends,
forever tried and true.

We didn't have a family car;
'twas not our status quo.
Dad's pickup took us everywhere,
including Idaho.

We had to ride there in the back;
it really was a pain.
We fought the sun and felt the wind;
at least it didn't rain!

We saw some bears in Yellowstone,
and felt we were in luck.
Some other fools approached the beasts;
we stayed right in that truck!

We stayed some nights with relatives
and got to know them better.
My cousin in the bunk above
one night made me wetter.

Then on back home the pickup truck
became our trusty ride.
I had to shift so that I could
sunburn the other side.