Early Onset

What I want to do is stop remembering 
the rainy morning you drove 50 miles to my house
to help me find car keys I'd dropped in the trash.

The way the bag wrinkled its nose at us while we rummaged. 
The crinkle, the acrid grounds of discarded coffee and rice.
The squish of fingertips finding a banana peel. 

How horrible I felt you'd made that trip through traffic. 
Missed work. Lost another day's pay because I couldn't cope. 
Got scolded by your boss.

My stupid tears must have poured down your windshield.
Slicked the very streets. Puddled up. 
Hydroplane warning.

-Katherine Gotthardt