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Kite Flying With My Brother One Sunday Last Spring
by Claire Scott

Slammed the lid shut and that was it for me and the piano since my brother played Bach and
Schubert since distinguished musicians came to hear to see talked in hushed tones in the
hall since a piano arrived one afternoon not a Madame Alexander doll like Emily's or a felt
skirt with a poodle, rhinestone eyes shining, since my mother spent hours by his side while
he composed contrapuntal music at the age of six

Because I spent weeks in the basement constructing a kite crossing sticks tying knots
cutting a cloth sail a ribbon tail my allowance spent on dowels fishing line electrical tape a
Swiss army knife

Because at the first wind
we hurried to the soccer field
grasses pushing green
through left over snow
crows and grackles pecking
frozen ground
because he hung on
and hung on
as I raced into the wind
watching the sailing
speck of my brother
in the March sky
since I had my twelve dollar
Swiss army knife
tucked in my pocket


 

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