tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-855012732105426889.post154453077831961740..comments2024-03-06T13:33:02.824-08:00Comments on poetry bites: ColorKit Kennedyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04680775609980451495noreply@blogger.comBlogger1125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-855012732105426889.post-63899553872375760832016-01-27T07:09:23.591-08:002016-01-27T07:09:23.591-08:002016
It was a big blue station wagon, a chevy I ...2016<br /><br /><br />It was a big blue station wagon, a chevy I think. We rode home in its large metal embrace through a torrent of rain on the parkway. I can picture my father's lanky form at the wheel, my mother beside him I think, as we attempted the trip after visiting my grandmother, grandfather, aunt and uncle and our 6 cousins for a holiday dinner. maybe it was Thanksgiving. There was a lot of food and a lot of drink. Squished in the three sections of the chevy, we bumped against each other, slightly terrified as the storm raged, our parents trying to remain calm, the water literally rising around us. Dark rain, color indescribable, the color of fear, of trouble, of night and motion. The car held up, and I recall my father commenting that it was a good thing it was high off the ground. We made it from Long Island to Connecticut. I don't remember getting out of the car, walking up the pathway, crunching on the gravel, opening the door and filing up the stairs to our rooms, We must have felt relief and exhaustion. I do remember the big chevy, the big blue chevy. Susan E. Gangelhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11089529481292723290noreply@blogger.com