The Heir

On a highway back to Muncie,
Yes, I'm a Hoosier born and raised,
While lost in thoughts of family,
I drove momentarily dazed.

An abrupt bang, shudder and gasp,
A sick flopping noise grew louder,
The steering wheel challenged my grasp,
I fought the car to the shoulder.

Was my underwear clean attire?
If not my mother would be mad,
Did I have a good spare tire?
Of course! I was taught well by dad.

I swore I heard my sister's laugh,
While performing my simple task,
It's simple because my brother’s craft,
Is the skill in which I now bask.

My uncles and aunts influence,
The way I now handle a crisis,
Even my nephew taught street sense,
Watch for hoods on the premises.

Now my flat tire’s a safe repair,
And I in my car proceed home,
I'm fortunate to be the heir,
To love no matter where I roam.

FOLDER

My Poetry  (E) Come as you are. #2034965 by Rhychus