Flashing red lights. Beeping horns. Bells. I pull the bar; the helicopter car rises. I push the bar; the car drops. Up and down, up and down, up and down. Around, around, around my brother and I fly.
Until the ride ends.
summertime
Robert and I race
to the next ride
first published in Image Curve, August 23, 2018
Photo by Ben Konfrst
UPDATE: for dVerse Poets’ OpenLinkNight #226 (pubtended by Grace)
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My pleasure, Grace. Thank you! Yes, it was some ride—and it’s still there! 😀
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I love how you share the rides instead of fighting over them. It’s more fun when you do it together.
Speaking of which, I just watched IT last night, so I can’t help but picture the two brothers from that movie, the younger one dead … the older, either recalling memories, or doing things together with his brother, even though he’s a ghost.
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Frank J. Tassone-American Haijin by Frank J. Tassone is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 4.0
Frank J. Tassone 
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