Yellow

When my cousins and I were

young enough to build forts using

binder clips and blankets,

we used to sit and listen

to Elton John

croon to the circular rhythm

of the square-bladed fan.

It was wonderful to

talk about the stars as if

they were right above us,

dusty and simple and yellow.

My cousin Juliet was my best friend

and always will be because

when her younger brother Gabriel

invited himself to our world

she welcomed him before I did.

The first time he joined us

we listened to Billy Joel

as if the instruments that sounded

like flutes filled with Jell-O

were there just for us

and the pillows.

Gabe fit in easily enough,

and we were happy to have

the company for games.

I only realized I was too big

for the fort when

we tried to invite someone else

into it. Liam was

small enough that his head touched

air where mine lapped up blanket,

and yet I couldn’t understand

until the whole thing shook

like a leaf and

drifted slowly to the ground

taking the yellowing stars

with it.