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