We Were the Heroes.jpg

Brothers

by A.M. Broadous

May 2019

In this photograph, we donned

two white T-shirts, black shorts straight

from the dryer, and boots for our hike

on dirt roads where boxelder bugs and

garter snakes gibbered in confidence.

Our backs to this one vinyl memory,

we traded our childhoods for a vanishing

point as easily as a sack

 

lunch of honey-butter sandwiches.

Adult, now a verb, shocking how

quickly a noun grows up. It’s just

a word, one we can turn from as

easily as we turn this page. We can

still turn on our heels in the dust

 

and face the white-hot lens steadying

the time, the moment that has already

passed, pressed us flatly into an

album where we’d walk not run

beside mint leaves and lavender,

the world bunched at our ankles,

 

believing we were the heroes.