The year was 1965,
and Mrs. J was 65,
and she had never learned to drive.

It was so very long ago,
but I would drive her to and fro
through the streets of Chicago.

To change lanes left, I’d turn my head,
but she would yell, “Look straight ahead!”
“When you do that I am afraid!”

She started dating a new man;
he said, “I just don’t understand,
learn to drive–I know you can.”

She took lessons, a good sport,
and told me then just what she thought:
“Now I know of that blind spot!”