on our way to the museum of memory,
Susan Stiles
on the coastal thruway
that separates Lima from the sea,
the vintage van gave out,
within striking distance
of the exit ramp,
that angled, steeply up.
we coasted some,
made it partway,
then came, to a full stop.
no one spoke.
the driver exited,
retrieved a canister
from the back,
opened the hood,
poured the substance in.
the engine stirred
to life, our destination,
now in view.
that uncertain moment, between
the undoing and the redoing,
gone.
Susan Stiles is a freelance writer living in Croatia. Her poetry has appeared in The Lake, The Dalhousie Review, Panorama (where she is also a reader), Innisfree, Slant, The Westchester Review, and elsewhere. Occasionally, she writes a blog, “Letters from Rab,” on her website, susan-stiles.com.