Scarheaps
by Fred DeMeo
Autumn’s last ride between
mid-century slagheaps
and shedding ninebark.
Two half brothers stop
to walk their bikes
deep in Nine Mile Run.
We share a vape.
My brother won’t stop talking –
primitive memories surfacing.
Some scars show.
The rest stay buried.
Uphill, bikes hiked
onto our shoulders –
the only easy weight we carry.
Underneath this verdant place,
something so toxic,
my brother ran away at sixteen.
G.I. Joes scattered on the floor.
Next time I met him,
he was a man.
Fred DeMeo is a Pittsburgh-based poet who grew up in Arizona, where much of his writing was shaped. He has been writing poetry since middle school and recently returned to the work with renewed focus. His poems explore emotional landscapes of the desert, men, women, and generational differences.