My Sophistry

I was conceived in the backseat of a white truck during a late summer thunderstorm

My mother trembling in her soaked sundress deathly afraid of lightening that cracked from sky to earth

Had locked herself out of the house and had taken shelter under the willow tree

He smiled when he saw her jumping and squealing with every growl of thunder, every forked tongue strike

Get in, he said reaching over to unlock the truck door.  She pulled her dress high on her smooth legs stepping up the on the slick running board.

She looked at the metal crates stacked on the bench seat then she looked at him, all sinewy and golden with a sideways smile

He watched her climb over to the back, her dripping wet dress plastered to her slick olive skin

We should wait out the storm he said crawling over crates and thunder rattled bottles

My mother always said I got my sea-blue eyes from the milkman...

Today's Poetry Prompt