THE AWKWARD YEARS


Sixteen-year-old Charlotte
in back of the van closes her math book
then comments that her friend Caitlin
shares her dark humor.

"She's the only one who laughs
at my dead baby jokes."

My wife in the passenger seat
presses an invisible brake
while I make no attempt to fill
the silence.

                      "What's funnier
than a dead baby?" Charlotte asks,
then answers:
                         "A dead baby
                          in a clown suit."

Our daughter's laughter shatters
like a wine glass.
Her mother leans forward
to pick up the pieces

I watch our baby
in the rear view mirror
presiding at her own
wake.