Piker Press Banner
February 26, 2024

Little Fire

By Amanda Girard

Little Fire

The last time I saw you
We were at our high school's music concert
My sister and your brother play the drums,
Barely visible from the audience at the back of the band
Throughout the missed notes and the off-beat ones
I can't help but imagine you in the front right corner
Where you played the clarinet, although you never practiced

Your brother looks exactly like you.

I sang soprano and would watch you from the wooden bleachers
I had never watched anyone quite like that before

That was six years ago, now, and you look older every time I see you
Sometimes you don't come to the concerts but I hope you know
I always look for you, just like the girl version of me did
I think you're ashamed because you dropped out of college
But I'm ashamed that after three years, I still search for you with a full heart

The last time I saw you was last summer
We talked about how Captain America had been turned into a Nazi
I was surprised that you remembered he was my favorite Avenger
I talked about my internship like a fool, assuming
That you would have one too, that you were coming back with me

Your basement caught on fire two weeks later
You're still not able to go home
And I don't want the last memory I have of you
And a part of me wishes we could make more.

Article © Amanda Girard. All rights reserved.
Published on 2017-07-10
Image(s) are public domain.
0 Reader Comments
Your Comments

The Piker Press moderates all comments.
Click here for the commenting policy.