Drenched

5 a.m. chiaroscuro of clouds
dark & light
like day & night
like right & wrong
I climbed over the
seat into the back
of the car when
we reached Buddy's house.
"Who is that, Al?" Buddy asked
as he sat, pumpkin-sized head
in silhouette.
I was shadow
on vinyl;
the hum of the car engine
soothed me like a lullaby.
In Pittsfield a bottle of booze
found underneath a seat.
Rain beat on the roof like
knuckles...
I woke to the great city, cars
people, buildings; Yankee Stadium
drenched, the crowd immense.
Maris hit one out
to right;
a big man in the grandstand caught
a foul ball in his bare hand and
stood like the Statue of Liberty.
After the game was called
we left:
on the ride home Buddy and
Uncle Al told jokes, laughed
smoked cigarettes
while I
in the back
became more
invisible
each mile.