Jean L Kreiling : Winter Car

The heater seems to be a bit asthmatic:
it coughs a little warmth around my feet,
its wheeze appreciated, though erratic.

The balding tires don’t quite admit defeat:
I sense their grip—although it’s tenuous—
on random patches of the half-plowed street.

But black ice makes all driving perilous;
a new car wouldn’t make this expedition
much easier, or much less dangerous.

So I don’t blame the elderly transmission,
which hesitates, its mechanism seizing
and gasping, thus confirming the condition

the heater hints at. It’s the season’s freezing,
unfriendly attitude that makes this trip
a threat to my own health. No, I’m not sneezing,

my lungs are clear, but with another slip
and slide or two, it’s likely that my car
and I will do an accidental flip,

and I’ll be keeping warm in the E. R.