Ashes
My car died on the interstate
Between work and home.
Old rancher in an old pickup
Stops and gives me a ride.
Ashtray brimming over with
Cigarette butts, and Rainier cans
rolling around the floor.
The cab was a smoke preserved museum.
A smell which is strangely comforting.
a flashback to trips,
In the family station wagon
( Griswold ).
Mom and Dad chain smoking
In the front.
In the middle my siblings
seat belt free playing twenty questions.
I always hid in the far back
suitcases my fortress,
a book my sword.
The family was whole
and we kids felt Immortal.
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