For My Brother, John

In the pale light of the crescent moon,
I wait-
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-

I wait.

*** 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.