Debby Hackbarth

 

Passionate About Cars                               

 

My father was always passionate about cars.

He loved to drive them and admire others from afar.

Our family attended racing events that smelled like tar.

When I was young, he owned a gas station.

He loved servicing vehicles that made a commotion.

Every night we’d hear stories feeling his passion.

I grew to love cars too and owned my first one at twenty-one.

Emory and I went for rides to work and to the country just for fun.

When he was failing, I sold him to a family who were “second to none”.

Now I drive my “hot” Camry who I named Big Red.

She looks like a race car and I’ll drive her until she’s dead.

Dad and I could never get beautiful cars out of our heads.

 

Romance with Hefty Means of Transportation   

 

I’ve loved driving cars since I was sixteen.

I desperately wanted my parents’ boxy red Ford.

I waited fifty-three years until I owned a sleek red Camry.

However, I have always loved fire engines, red or otherwise.

Their powerful immaculate countenance brings tears to my eyes.

Growing up in the Midwest, I frequently admired tractors.

Small ones for personal yard maintenance were cute.

But I longed for the huge agricultural vehicles.

I’ll always be passionate about cars, trucks, and farm equipment.