Brian

Brian was a fighter, chased light on the floor
Fists clenched through the hallway
And straight out the front door
Standing in blue gowns sweet-thinking of worse times:
Brian in the mirror, his face twisted up in mine

Goosebumped in my tee-shirt and spinning the racket
I might just hit the net if I'm aiming right at it
Brian was a winner in gym class this year:
Fist pumped when the birdie flew over into the clear