Trusted driver’s side rear window
finally relinquished reliability right before
we planned to leave the car
in my brother’s driveway seven whole days.

The gap left when it wouldn’t roll up
was only the width of your smart phone,
but that’s enough room for the nefarious stranger
or furious storm with all of its elements.

I brainstormed solutions while driving there, hoping
maybe my brother had a vacant garage,
all while praying for the serenity of a week
accepting things as they are.

That is until I mentioned it to my brother
who didn’t even hesitate to have a look
underneath the devil empowered sun,
putting his head to the problem.

Do you mind if I take off the door panel?
Tap that box. Somehow that sometimes works.
There’s a cable back there that may be twisted or broken.
This stuff will readhere like reusable glue.

Meanwhile I observed duct tape on his car,
same make, similar model, same window, similar problem.
He said that it happened a few days earlier
then added as he put my car back together,

If I hadn’t had that problem,
I wouldn’t have known how to fix yours.

I thought about our poetry, about why we write,
the diversity of style and words we choose
but every piece can touch at least one soul
helping them through whatever trials we are already surpassing.