Thirty years ago
On an Oklahoma red road
My astigmatic eyes spy fuzzy storms peaking
Peeking over a horizon melting
Static electricity tickles nostrils congested
By summer-heated Volvo leather and Whataburger french fries
Childish fear builds up at the first blinding bolt
Amplified by the rumble of an unseen dragon
Discharged by my grandmother’s hand, sparking a smile
Rolling down the electric window, airing out the worries
As she whispers songs about scissor-tails taking flight
When the sun comes back.
Now
Air conditioned barren corridors sanitized of reminders
No scent nor tint without a guest pass, please
Outside the solitary weather-proofed window
Gray-grey clouds of wintery stillness hang frozen
In the bone white bright light room
Pillows covered in plastic crinkle as I sit
My father shouts bedtime rituals to her helpless ears,
Tucking in the woman who showed him how
Until time can afford him the return trip
In his stead I steady her palms like papyrus
Until the son returns.
Post-Neology 
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