Fall by Emma Bruckner

Do you remember when Felix Baumgartner fell
From space
Into the shallow stratosphere of trivialized headlines?
It was the start of fall.

A Sunday evening, we were coming home,
My orange Spanish book matched the trees,
It smelled of leather carseats and October sky,
The temperature fell overnight.
The sun sets early now, I thought
And I told Dad about the jump.

It was a Sunday also when Dad died
The following summer.
It takes six feet
To know gravity.