Memories of my Brother

I decided I would challenge myself to write a poem for my brother every day this month and this is the result. It is rough and rugged and it is a mere work-in-progress but I'm just writing down stuff I want to say.

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10. X

Sometimes I think that our childhood is a parachute
Hung out to dry
And all the memories are drip
Drip
Dripping
Out of me
Like a hand is squeezing close over my ribs
Feeling the heartbeat
And then wringing my ribs
Dry
Of all but a picture frame
Which contains
An empty paddling pool
A tree
And a plank of wood
And your smile like a candelabra
From which my world
Had swung
And I aligned myself to you
Like a planet kept in check by the gravity
Of your voice
While you imparted the philosophy
And the wisdom
Of a nine year old boy who had crickets for thoughts
And an insect-ish shadow
Of a little sister


 

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