The night is now a big night in its sky: low, blue, black stars all in a smear.

Sun gone moon winning.

Moon has won.

From inside house, someone Glimm maybe coughs.

Cat in window looks out tail swishing head tilted as if to say: Why not have me for your cat, 89?

Sad sad though:

If blankslate that sledding boy those blue-white days that flour-haired Ma?

Gone.

And no one left to remember them ever again.

No one left to remember Ma bringing my blue robe wrapping me up.

My sweet little man she says Imagine the lovely things you will someday achieve in this magnificent world How proud you will make me, your mother.

O Ma O sorry Ma did not achieve any lovely in this magnificent

Back door swings open.

Lightshape runs out.

Meg steps around Kennedy B. comes off porch crosses yard walking odd ly high heels on wet grass kisses me on cheek puts flower in my pocket.

Rose, Kennedy B. says from porch. Means she loves you.

Well, I actually sort of do, says Meg.

Come on, 89, sweetie, let’s go inside, says Kennedy B. Next thing you know, you wake up fresh, whole new start.

No more looking backward, 89, says Jer. Only forward. From now on.

With us, says Kennedy B. Your friends.

Until the end, says Jer.

Doesn’t that sound nice, 89? says Meg.

Yes, I say.

But can we give a few secs? I say.

Can we give you a few secs, says Jer.

Can you give me a few secs? I say.

Not sure why we’re getting super wonky over syntax this late in the game, says Meg.

It’s sweet, he wants some me time, says Kennedy B.

They cross yard open door lightshape runs out.

Lightshape runs back in.

Am alone in yard.

Smear of stars widest, lowest yet Aspens sway Storage shed makes frog noise with each breeze.

Must think take my few secs to

I am not am not now am no longer Elliott Spencer exactly.

The me I am now has never been wino has never had wine does not want since never has had.

The me I am now has words memories new and old I like him who I am like him fine do not wish to lose him or his memories of Ma or memories of Vixen of my old school St. Damian’s clang in breeze goes flagpole rope against flagpole Vincent brings sugarstraw for me in his mitten and sugarstraw for him in his other green mitten Because we are: blood brothers.

Far from home Ma dead.

Have no friend or pal in all of world.

Breeze now more Aspens shake crazy in their leaves Gate clicks its latch with each new push of breeze.