I REMEMBER...

I remember that night in a red convertible

bills exchanged in the night

a place that had colored lights

in a warm Florida vacation night

I remember the night air rushing, speeding

with the top down, towering palm trees on

both sides of the road whizzing past

My father singing “Sentimental Journey” 

Though, I may have imagined that

More likely he had a cigarette

debonairly clamped between his lips 

his wavy black hair long and slicked back

my mother beside him in the front seat

holding her hand up to hold her hair

But, I don’t really remember this

What I do remember

is simply the night we got to Florida

colored lights strung around

a car rental sign

I remember that night or the next night

standing up in a motel room

that I remember as a trailer although it wasn’t

I remember the smell of the bleach on the sheets

The feel of my hair a little damp and the smell of shampoo 

The sweet smell of flowers

the heavy wet flower scented air coming through the window

and outside – more colored lights and

music – 

dance music playing 

I remember there in the middle of older grown-ups

I could see them – not too far away

Could see them through the window next to the bed

where I stood on three-year-old tip toes

and watched

My mother in a skirt that swirled around her shins

My father in a shirt so white it gleamed

swaying so close together they shared a

single haze of cigarette smoke rising above their heads

dancing in the light 

I remember feeling that love ripple

toward me as hot and humid and sweet

as that Florida night

with a shiny red convertible 

waiting for our certain happy tomorrow