And this is the place we drove into,
to kill time for a little while.
For a little while we were just on this road
driving up, winding, and you felt sick,
and I laughed so hard at your weak stomach
and you had no idea that I felt weak so much of the time,
which is the way I like to keep it.
On the dirt road with those goddamn potholes,
we were up and up until we turned
right at the boulders―
That bulk of red and age and heft.
We pulled over and stepped out, dwarfed
by the mountain, by its red rocks,
its clouds screening the peak,
by the raw exposure —
So that even you, my older brother
couldn’t hold authority over it.