On the Taconic state parkway,
it was dark and like the sky
the car was heavy with doom clouds;
a storm was brewing.

Pete was the one who brought it up.
He sneered it
through the two front seats.
And I heard it and sat still,
silently afraid
because we don�t talk about
it.
Dad swerved the car over,
opened his door to the rain
and slammed it behind him
and Mom turned her face towards the window
and sighed into her hands.
Pete patted her shoulder
and she let him
while Dad wandered up and down the highway
getting cleansed.