the filling station

we try to

but we can't ignore

the grease

of the station, the oil

cans

stacked, the cat on the counter.

the pin up

calendar

stuck

on Rita Hayworth.

it's on a back

road

heading towards

Winchester.

the last stop the sign

says

for cigarettes

and gas.

we pull up,

and

use the bathroom,

the large

key

on a wrench. neither

of us

sits down.

we manage though.

the man's wife asks us

if we want

a cantaloupe, she grows

them in the yard

around back.

we take one, and a map.

they both

wave to us as we pull away,

the tank

filled,

they yell out, we appreciate

your business,

hurry back.