Due to age-related episodes
of vasovagal syncope,
I’m forced by law to hand over
the keys to my car even though
I never had an accident
in 72 years of driving.
At the age of 4, I began driving
my Pontiac pedal car up and down
the wood floors of grandma’s dry-goods store.
As soon as I could see over the windshield
in my father’s model-A 1931 Ford,
he taught me to drive on country roads.
I was 10 years old.
Now I must resign myself to be nothing
but a glum passenger in Uber and Lyft.