The Tire Store

The tire store on Highway 67 is
an institution.
An artistic unplanned filth
 is almost inviting.
Dirty doors reveal years of
Oily hands.
Plastic bobble heads and a
well handled snow globe sit atop
an old rusty metal shelf.
The smell of rubber is enticing.
Not a smell I’d want to walk away with
But apropo for twenty five minutes
of sitting in the waiting room.
A gas station filled with character
was taken away. Sadly the
residents of Priceville, Alabama
Felt a loss when these reminders
of a simple life were laid to rest.
The small building offered fresh
produce lined up on weathered
wooden shelves.
People pumped gas and bought
tomatoes at one stop shopping.
But some things haven’t been
taken away like the tire store
and memories.

7-25