Chevy Impala

I was writing a haiku last night, the word "classic" was the prompt. I ended up writing something about my dad‘s old light blue Chevy Impala. 

This would’ve been in the early 1970s before my brother was born. It had the old bench seat seats. 

 So, this was before the advent of seatbelt laws, and whenever we went somewhere, I could just lie across the entire backseat. I loved just watching the journey from that perspective and watching the treetops go by and everything. It was like my little place back there. I loved it. 

 I’m so glad I grew up when I did. Endless hours outside every day of unstructured play. Imagination games. Climbing trees, riding bikes all over town. 

 And when I went to the library, nobody stuck their nose into whatever I chose to read. This was good because I outgrew the kids section pretty quickly. (As soon as I finished the Marguerite Henry books).

 Yeah. That Impala was a great car. Nice memory.