I-25 traffic
Denver to Fort Fun
Parents continue existence
It’s all still the same.

Maybe I’m 17.
Maybe I’m still caught in their expectation
Of what I’m not.

My father enjoyed my uncle and me
Sharing war stories
From the pit and the piano.

Surely we exist for his entertainment.

Calming signal.
My mother giggles
Rubs her pointed nails against
The throw she keeps on her recliner
For warmth
For protection.

I drew horses.