All afternoon I have been in the passenger seat. Playing the songs from a playlist to remind me how to love you
even now.
I am between two places a stretched a fine line.
As if I may need more
More than the careful curl of fire
That kisses your forehead in my first memories of you.
Red like the wagon I rode in to meet you at your birth.
Like the blood from my nose on a trampoline,
And my heart in my throat.
I have always thought, or maybe hoped, that I’d be there at all your first steps.
More than the way you rode a bike with me on the back, or when we dug streaks into the fresh tennis courts with your skateboard.
More than your Prom, your basketball games, your first girlfriend, your last girlfriend.
My little brother,
I am so quick to defend you.
My hand rides the waves of wind that rush by the open car door. It’s hard to forget.
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