we wanted to fly kites
so she bought three at the dollar store
with cartoon characters and party-streamer tails

in the empty schoolyard at the Garneau School
we sat on the scrubby hill (more dirt than grass)
in the dark, sharing a beer pre-flight

there was no wind
that night or any night that summer

we took turns running around the desolate field
could never stop running
or the kites would crash down into the dirt

we should have considered the stillness
the way every night was warm that summer
even when it was raining, which it began to do

running home under yellow streetlights
jumping over puddles in the dark
we knew the sweetness of these nights would not last

we hugged goodbye on the street
a canopy of leaves above us

kite tails on the wet sidewalk