Handlebars

by abubhaji

My memory of you whips
from the end of a rope-
swing, handle bars slip
over dry creek
(pronounced crik)
as you fall into the mud
drink a beer
try again
later
brother
 
 
My memory of you paints
the hood of die-cast semi;
the kind you liked
to collect
and place proudly on display
along the
cardboard
rue
proud too was I
to be your friend
brother
 
 
My thoughts of you slide
on self-made sleighs
down grassy
Mariposa mountain-sides
shoving, pushing
forced-tumbling
before
a swim in the back
pond
I’ve got your back
brother
put
the rock down
brother
 
brothers of mine