Poem: The Little Red Car

The Little Red Car

Driving down the freeway, traffic in a jam.

I‘m calm, yet on the look-out, doing what I can

Lanes keep disappearing, cars begin to slow. 

I’m trying to move over; will someone let me go?

A red car, right behind me, gives a little toot. 

Quickly I scoot over, with more cars in pursuit

But my new lane disappears and I can’t get in. 

Look who’s there to help: the red car once again.

Traffic’s getting thicker. Oh, my exit’s here. 

Can’t believe my eyes, but in the rear-view mirror,

Once more on this freeway, the red car makes a space. 

Quickly, I zip over. Down the ramp we race

The red car right behind me, its driver wears a grin. 

A friendly wave, a little honk and off we go again.

In the middle of a freeway somehow we connected. 

It really made my day, such kindness unexpected.

Now there’s a toy car on my dresser, painted shiny red, 

just like the picture of the car that’s in my head.

Always it reminds me, when I see it every day: 

Make some room for others. Help them find their way.

By Cynthia Sheridan