Malt Shop Shadows

Clouded sunbursts
upon shattered
oft-tattered tails of
clock-rocking and rolling
greased DAs and Hudsons
Dad's Desoto and halted shops
of roller skates and malts

Like vanilla cokes
it blends
and swirls

The heavy chevies
thrust themselves through
bobbie-socked and hopped
and rock'n rolled
like the father's sons
who drove in
the drive in
and parked
radio hushed
ten past and seconds late
the thirties in the fifties
and the cruisin'
and the losin'
and the boozin'

It blends
and fades
its harshness bared

With slight lament
I watch my child
as he rides and slides
and falls
and fails
and like some reborn Lone Ranger
kicks his heels
and speeds off into
the dust