Blue Comb '78

Summer of 1978. My sister and

I in the backseat just wait.

We pass the time by making

lines on the seat that we

can't cross, a thin line like

dental floss. She threw my

new blue comb out the

window, somehwere on I-70.

Dad said, "I'm sorry, but we

can't go back.",

we're never going back to

get it. It was the first comb I

ever had. Got it just that

morning from my mom and

my dad. Light blue in color, I

could never find another,

comb like that, big and fat...

So tell me, have you seen my

comb? Last time I saw it, it

was in her hands, and then it

was bouncing down the

road. It wasn't fancy, it wasn't

brown, but now it might be

from lying on the ground. So

tell me, have you seen my

comb?

Driving down the road in

September, I was only five but

I still remember, where the

highway turns at the bottom

of the hill, my parents both up

front 'cause they loved each

other still. Mabye just a comb

made of plastic, or an action

of a sibling lacking couth, but

something that was thrown

out that window, was the last

great symbol of my youth.