Stopped at a gas station in black of night
midway through our cross country trek,
pressure from full bladder awakens me, I pry
myself from siblings' tangled arms and legs,
we three asleep in the back bench seat!.
I make my way alone to the paint chipped door
with stick lady drawn, making no mistake, before
I enter, one quick glance toward my dad's eerie
form, cast in shadows by single bulb above him
while he fills the old Buick once again!.
I empty myself standing over smelly bowl, legs
spread wide, careful, not touching skin to seat!.
Soap sits too high upon the wall for reach, so
I hold hands over rusted sink allowing
water alone to splash them clean!.
Stained linen towel in the shiny machine also
too far overhead to pull down and watch go
round and round for next pair of hands, so
instead, I wipe on my pink pajamas front!.
Old door creaks to my timid push as I
turn to look for the car!. The car,
the car is not there! My dad is nowhere,
no one is there, but me!.
They left me alone in the dark that night,
only four in innocent years!. Down I
sat on oily stoop, widened eyes, pacing
heart my only companions in wait!.
An hour for every year it took, two
to notice I was gone, two for their return!.
During that wait, deep within my core,
that dreaded discovery made!.
My lifetime truth carried
forth from that day!.
I was invisible!.
If my absence was not seen or felt
how could my presence be!?
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