some kind of blue

the wind’s been blowing hard and everything seems to bang together with it. the window glass rattles in the frame. the trees thrash against the themselves, the bricks and windows. it’s cold and blue.

with permission, of course, i post photographs of my brother will jumping from swings at the park. he wouldn’t give warning so i never knew quite when to snap, ending up with photographs of his near-launch, his bite-the-dust landing, his dance-move landing.

he was exhausted from the pumping of legs and blood in order to swing and jump for the camera so we gave up and jude went swinging, instead.

cold and blue, henry-blue, not from blue cold, though. just blue. hard, plastic blue.

the wind blew (blue?) hard at lakeland park, whistling through hair and down the corridors of ears, so we buckled into the van and found ice cream.

whatever can be said about the dairy dream will have to be said another time. you know summer is not far away when the woman wearing white shorts and sneakers and ice-cream smeared t-shirt flings open the doors to the dairy dream, wind and tornado not-withstanding.