ruffdraft

Cold air. Blue 
sky. Naked winter branches.
Two chickadees hopping.

The shadow twists and turns on the dirty window.

Sunrise squeezed between houses
and trees.
A streak of sunlight 
rolls down the street

I remember his patience when he helped us get our bikes ready to ride,the fish 
he'd bring by still swimming in buckets. 
His sisters telling was about how he was a great swimmer, but always swam so close to the bottom because 
his bone density was high that he sank.

I remember Hugh laughing. Don’t recall him ever fussing or arguing, even with all the debating and 
pontificating always going on. 
Watching and listening,
a small smile playing on his mouth.

Sometimes he would make remarks and laugh. There was a
displeased look, usually 
about some of that pontificating.
not surprising that years and years of that would get tiresome


Hugh didn’t show anger often but when he did everyone took notice.
There was that time in the high school auditorium when 
Henry looked up and Hugh was beating the shit out of some 
white guy who had called him a 
nigger.

In his swimming trunks, 
the boy runs easily 
down the street.

The generator invades the early morning,
sound levels measured in decibels. 
Trucks dump loads of dirt in the 
front yard.

The cicadas song travels the dark like
ocean waves.
High in the trees, fireflies pulse and
fade. Street 
lights shine through wet 
leaves. 

A car stops on the hill. 
The passenger finds his way 
across my neighbor's yard,
his phone to his ear.
house windows 
light up.

The cicadas chorus circles around.