windshield sky is rain-heavy gray
smeared to the horizon
I’m going 80mph   passing trucks
on I-64   my sister

is on speaker phone
sobbing and
sobbing and
begging
for her life to make sense again
and
     
        I can’t help her

because it never will   and

relentless traffic is the only thing
keeping me grounded
from the jolt of my sister’s distress

she tells me
I feel like I left town and never came back
just enough awareness
to split us both down the middle