Max Reif - Odometer

I remember how
my new Mazda 626
flew over the road
as I watched the odometer
turn over its first mile:
my car had punched in
on its life's time clock.

Five years later 99,000
more miles have turned,
imperceptibly, one by one:
you hardly feel a thing each time,

yet now the unholstery's matted
with some congealed,
unidentifiable stuff;
the frame is slightly
dented in a couple places;
some mold smell
wafts up from under a seat;
and I've had to throw
the carpets away altogether.
How did all this happen, I wonder?

And then the thought occurs:
from the moment of birth,
our bodies' meters
are running, too.

Max Reif

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/odometer/