Racing Memoir

A Poem by R. S. Morris

My father was a racer.
I was looking for his racing past.
A book had his image and his number.
His racing album, discovered at last.

Inside, page after page,
of old race tracks and old race cars.
Revealing history, reliving the past,
his very own racing memoir.

Before he even finished school,
while still just barely a teen.
Already building cars and racing them,
coat, tie and office, just not his scene.

As I flipped from images to stories,
many dates I had to guess.
A lot of pictures were old and faded,
but really, those were the best.

Cars never seen,
many tracks I never knew.
Like a lost world first discovered,
uncovering some amazing new clues.

The album filled a lot of gaps,
revealed stories until now unheard.
From news articles to news pictures,
I read and remembered, every last word.

The journey's not yet complete.
I have more to learn and digest.
With each page turned and each story learned.
I realized how truly I'm blessed.

R. S. Morris