Rear Vision
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He rolled
his pick-up truck
Into Dad’s
tire shop
To get a new
set of treads.
I was home
for the holidays,
Waiting for
Dad to close shop.
Cranny used
to live across the river.
I rode the
school bus
With his
children. His truck
Looked as
battered and seamed
As he did.
My Dad
Fingered the
scar left where
The side
mirror had broken off.
I don’t care
about rear-vision
Mirrors,
Cranny said. I quit
Looking back
a long time ago.
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