Grandaddy’s Caddy

Cigar smoke and leather from the Caddy

Will always remind me of grandaddy.

Cologne and gleaming chrome

Remained just part of the ride home.

The touch of the seats and the smell

of the smoke allowed me to tell.

The buttery taste of the Werther’s candy

Let me enjoy the jazz that came in handy.

I listened to the notes as the car zoomed

The sound of trumpets and drums boomed.

It was like flying over asphalt as he drove

Through icy nights and days like a stove.

Some cognac he’d sip on these trips.

He’d wink and put a finger to his lips.

I looked at the dashboard, shiny and bright.

The experience was always one of delight.