What Dead Means

The air was still wet from the rain
Grass sticking to our bare toes like
Chewed up bubble-gum, we ran.
Feet slipping on the slick blades,
Never wanting to stop.
We found the trees, needles from the
Pines digging their way deep into
Calloused bottoms.
Blurs of nothing in the dark,
Counting the shades of black
On our fingers and running out.
His head turned to me,
And I felt the movement
But my brother’s face was gone.
Just black.
“You know what dead means Mikey?”
I shook my head.
“It means in the ground.”
He sat down, and grabbed dirt,
Making a fist around it.