blue like the sky on a quiet day
fifteen with the world unfolding slow
a tank of memories laced with metal
rolling forward, ready to carry dreams
mr. day smiled through the dust and fumes
hands blackened with the kindness of checks
oil wiped clean, tires kissed with air
fifty cents bought more than a full tank
at the gulf station, the years lingered
service came in the shape of care
windows cleared to see the road ahead
and the boy behind the wheel, alive