Mercury, descendant of Henry Ford’s five-
dollar-a-day Model-T factory line,
you educated us and provided means
of exploration,
messenger of adult pleasures that began
at the drive-in movie and continued when
we flew ourselves out of town, winged at the heel,
unnoticed by blue
parents or policemen, to hasten with joy
from public highways onto backroads beside
meadows with your radio playing soft tunes
while we played also.
Helped by ingenious cherished disorder,
we resisted intimidation from old
gods and new teachers, in order to turn old
ourselves, past sedans
and stationwagons back to the two-seater:
Oh, surely your transport will return again
in the procession of motors following
a sable Lincoln.