Philadelphia Cream Cheese

A rainbow is setting in the Central Park reservoir. The boy with the purple knee-socks is kissing the girl with the sapphire eyes. Victorian acacia branches curve into cupids as my fingers trace the railing of the footbridge where we walked. It smells like ivory keys and maple syrup.

My brother is turning ten on September 6th. I remember ten. I remember this park at ten, when I stayed with you that first last summer. I remember the sound the wheelchair made as it parted gravel. I remember reaching up to grab the walker, my small hand on your wrinkled one. I remember the leaves we gathered and the poems you recited and the way you loved when I hummed the theme from Swan Lake.

And now it will be his turn to visit these streets. And I will show him. I will show him the window where I used to spin through white lace curtains. And he will laugh when he hears the stories. And I will tell him that he has your laugh.

And we'll remember.