Katherine Henion

Bright red with
A pull down roof.
Brown leather seats that
sticks on a hot day.

The carpet, once brown,
Stained black from ash.
Cigar and cigarette smoke
Blasts into your face.

The leather felt smooth and
The carpet, stiff.
The klang of Scotch bottles
Rang when gears shifted.

The pull of seat belts
Zipped, but not fast enough.
Out of the drive and
On to the beeping street.

Uncle John driving,
Some times with no hands.
Screams were caught in the wind,
But a deep laugh

Over threw everything.

Katherine Henion