O intrepid driver
February 27, 2010
Earlier this month, when I was caught in one of the blizzards that have recently hit Washington, D.C., my friend Jim Preston showed his great and wonted resourcefulness by helping me get my Volkswagen into a public garage before the roads became completely impassible. The following poem is dedicated to him, in gratitude. (As should be clear, his car has four-wheel drive.)
O intrepid driver through the snow
That falls profuse and heavy on the land:
The memory of thy days in Buffalo
Shall guide thee still to destinations grand.
For wisely thou hast furnished all thy wheels
With motive shafts, to give them added force.
Thy Subaru the tempest hardly feels,
But makes its way undaunted like a horse.
So, whether thy friend Paddy thou wouldst see,
Or wouldst take faithful Bruno to the vet,
The nets that sullen Time propels at thee
Shall not ensnare thy feet, or make thee fret.
For, as thou takest Virtue as thy crown,
Thou hast no need to fear the season’s frown.