Haibun For My Father Poem by Brendon Kent

It was sunny when we left in the old green Vanguard,
the smell of leather seats and mother's hairspray; father
with his slick back hair always with his window partly
open yet, like mother, never a single hair that moved!

on the back seat
between my sister and me
my mother's smile

Every journey always seemed to take so long
in those days, my twin sister's 'are we there yet? '
almost as frequent as the cigarettes being lit by father
as we travelled through the day
opening our windows just a little more each time.
It's harder trying to remember those days now.

half open window-the summer we left behind us

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