For My Brother, John
In the pale light of the crescent moon,
thinking of our childhood.
How you look like our father,
but not really.
You always have just looked like yourself.
I have a sister’s pride and sadness-
your life of pagentry and bluegrass,
dealing with problems of philosophy and letters-
how did you get to be such a man?
But really you were this man
from the time you were born.
-I have no memory of that –
Our brother – the triad of our siblinghood-
our brother’s birth is etched on my memory
in the scent of carnations
and the color of sunsets.
But not you.
You were always a part of me-
a precious conundrum.
And so I wait
in the half light of the crescent moon.
Waiting for your headlights to stream down the ridge,
for you to be here
as you always have been-
*** This is a poem written several years ago while waiting for my younger brother to arrive. It has been revised for the dVerse prompt for today to write of brothers or brotherhood.
I have two younger brothers. I was 16 months old when John was born and Frank was born 18 months after that. We have been and remain close.
I am blessed to have these two remarkable men in my life.