Gasoline Dreams

Outside in the carport,

I stand with heavy wrench in hand,

It's cold metal anchors me to this spot.

I have run about this neighborhood raising havoc,

But I want nothing more than to stand here with him,

Outside the house in dirty gumboots.

I breath in the smell of gasoline and stare at his matching feet,

In my eyes--

He can do anything,

But from this I will learn nothing for myself.

I expect him to be here,

Always.

To fix my cars and broken hearts,

Often played like toys.

Underneath that pickup truck lays my father,

He operates on a mess of metal insides,

Then asks me for the heavy wrench in hand.

I step forward,

Proud of this honor and thankful for my father,

Who has lifted the anchor from my body,

And allowed me to find my way back home again.

It is time,

For me to go inside the house.

Good night dear father,

I will always remember you in my gasoline dreams.