My father doesn’t like two-laned roads,
the cars always coming at you.
He prefers the highway’s straight lanes,
newscasters shouting on the radio,
You give us 22 minutes; we give you the world.
The road is hot.
I ask for the scenic route.
My father says he doesn’t like trees.
I’ve learned to distinguish
a sycamore from a London plane:
all about what the peeled bark reveals.
But when I lean my cheek against a trunk,
the tree knows I’m a stranger,
always my father’s daughter.
Flecks of salt and pepper hair
peek above the Mercury’s blue vinyl.
hands at 10 and 2 push on
level at the divided line.
Published in Cider Press Review, Volume 25, Issue 2.
D. Dina Friedman has published widely in literary journals and received two Pushcart Prize nominations. She’s the author of two young adult novels: Escaping Into the Night (Simon and Schuster) and Playing Dad’s Song (Farrar, Straus, Giroux), and one chapbook of Poetry, Wolf in the Suitcase (Finishing Line Press). Her short story collection, Immigrants, is forthcoming from Creators Press this fall. She has an MFA from Lesley University and taught for many years at the University of Massachusetts/Amherst.See all items about Dina Friedman
