On the Taconic state parkway,

it was dark and like the sky

the car was heavy with doom clouds;

a storm was brewing.

My brother 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.