Today I’m chasing color

a cursory fugitive through invisible towns,

snow blind and losing sight of the mountains

letting myself vanish

into backroads.

I stop for gas in a microscopic town

the friendliest in America, it’s undeniable

where I see only the restful eyes of an old man

readjusting his gloves to scrape the ice off my window.

The honeyed wrinkles of ladies inside

say that if he had any toes he can’t feel them.

They say there are some women who won’t fill up

unless he’s there

unsalaried, they say.

I give him a dollar

which he takes but doesn’t want to take.

Now I am the one paying it forward.