the field trip

I remember the time
I was ten on the school bus riding
home in
the middle of the day
after a field trip to the capitol,
and looking
out the window of the bus
to see my father
with another woman
riding next to him in his car.
she had her hand
on his knee,
and he had his hand
somewhere else on her.
I recognized her.
my mother's best friend, Doris.
I ratted him out
when I got home.
then life got really interesting.