Coming up the hill in the dusky light
The car headlights catch the
Old buildings, light up the neon with
Remembered colors and the windows
Fill with light and flickering shadows
From the flick of light and shadowplay
The remembered days of glory
Finned cars solid in their painted steel
Girls in poodle skirts, boys with slick hair, neat shoes,
Hurrying through the dusk
Dinner at the drive-in restaurant
A movie at the drive-in theater
Gone now remembered only
In the light of a passing car,
Flickering over the old neon.
Note: I have been working on this poem for many, many drafts. I’m sure this is not the last one!