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A simple brick rounded
at the edges and placed in
the ground over top of another
and the others are around it to
and my mother says that we have made
shapes that mean more to us
than they should, but her sister
stares into the distance at the
mountain that our father walks to.
The dirt becomes fire and the
flames bloom into memories
that he has planted near the
top and he wanted it to be first
to feel rain when God decided for
past and future to hold a shape
and colour that means something
that it should, and we can see which
sister of his will be what he
calls the mother of the sons
made to hunger.

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