Woebegone Dream

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Poem about a favorite memory of mine.

Submitted: July 31, 2012

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Submitted: July 31, 2012

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My father's old Cadillac,

"Betsy", was an old champagne color,

With fabric that hung from the roof

As Betsy carried us

From our small East Texas town

To a slightly bigger town that

Actually has a Luby's

 

Garrison Keillor's "Prairie Home Companion"

Is coming through the dulled speakers,

As it does every Saturday evening.

I lay my head against the cool glass of

My window in the back seat and

Close my eyes and listen to Keillor's

Crooner voice softly and gently take

Me to the shores of Lake Woebegone.

 

I loved the stories of Lake Woebegone

Before I knew it was not a real place.

Before I even realized the name

Was itself a pun.

I still do,

But back then I would listen

And imagine moving and

Living there one day.

 

My father eventually

Sold Betsy to the only

Place in town that would

Take her,

A junkyard.

 

I'm not sure what he saw

In that old Cadillac

But whatever it was

Stuck with him.

Betsy's hood ornament sits

On his mahogany desk in his office and

Overlooks the bay. 


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