At Most, 33 Verses

1: When mornings are warm enough for light jackets

And dew soaks through my sneakers


2. We drive the flat road from 911 Georgian Drive  apartment G

Across from the school


3: To a different flat road

Across from the corn field


4: To fly kites


5: Most days are breezy enough


6: Pink diamond kite

With a tail twice my height


7: Black and blue fighter kite

With a nose full of grass


8: A box kite we took out once

But never had the patience for


9: Sitting with our legs crossed

In the bed of the Ford Ranger


10: Eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches


11: I want milk

But drink a Coke instead


12: We won’t tell mom about the Coke.


13: One morning we drive past the kite field,

So far that road blisters up on itself,


14: And that day turns from orange


15: to yellow,


16: to a squinting glare

that makes the highway bob up and down like the ocean


17: back to orange,


18: and pink


18: Eventually putting itself to bed in the blue


19: The hospital is at the bottom of a one-lane road

Running against a sandstone ridge


20: There are signs that tell us to watch for falling rock


21: No one seems worried

So I hold on for all of us


22: There are two autumn days

We sometimes remember


23: One when I was born:

90 degrees in mid-October


24: One when my grandfather died:

90 degrees at the end of September.


25: He falls asleep

In the dull hum and humidity


26: When the sweat stops beading around his white-yellow hair

We stand in a half-moon to say goodbye


27: No one explains to me what this means


28: They wouldn’t after, either


29: Endings are the hardest things to name


30: That dull hum still washes over us,

Standing in that half-moon formation.


31: At Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Easter,

No signs tell us what to do.


32: We talk about the weather


33: No one seems worried,

So I hold on for all of us.