Blonde Baby

Our grandparents had given me ten dollars

as my late fourteenth birthday present;

my little sister and I made the mile-long treck down to the corner store.

"...even though we're not even supposed to be 

doing long division in the second grade!

I don't know fractions that good

  sorry, well, yet."

I stopped her stride to look over the bridge

into the green-black river.

The wind picked up.

Kira pulled her big hoodie tighter around herself.

I'd given it to her three months before

and she never seemed to take it off.

It was forty degrees on a cloudy day in Oregon,

the air full of

mists and fogs,

and she was bearing the weather

  in an old hoodie and rubber boots.


I love Kira. 

She's always been my favorite.


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