Gravity

My sister falls from the back of my dad's truck.

One day the sky
cupped my kite
in a whirl of
mauve and blue.
My sister laughed
and questioned
its ability.

We raced to the truck
enjoying a mixture of
green and yellow as
the tall grass tickled
Our chins.

Our feet dangled down
along the open bed.
Warm, dusty, wind
whipped our hair
as our father drove.

I saw her fly,
my sister,
Splashing
muddy clumps
into the air.
It reminded me
of my kite-
only broken.