Friday, February 27, 2009

my brothers

My Brothers.

Delayed in Detroit just now
I called you

First Denver, then Philly.

We shared details
Made plans
Deferred others

And I thought how I wanted
to capture this
full feeling I have
in my heart
when I hear your smiles

How I worry through your stress
your projects
your children
how I beam presumptuously
when it all goes well

Thought maybe I could
trace out the memories
that make us kin

Football tackles
and Fisher Price little people

Dying to the count of ten
(one thousand one, one thousand two)
in neighborhood battles of war

Big wheels and bikes

Your slight frames riding my knees
as I revved and roared speedway sounds
and leaned into the turns
your tiny hands grinding my balled fist
like a stick shift
your feet on my shoulders
(the gas and the brake)

The electric proximity of play

Thought maybe there would
be a way to sketch out
those years when everything
went to hell and we fled the house
each as we could
to find firm earth
to forage for comfort like we’d known
when that house was home

But there’s no way, my brothers,
to ink out the ache that remains
when I cut the line and end the call

The fractured terror of missing you always
The rich round way I love you

There’s no way to explain what I mean
when I call you My Brothers.


kari said...

Unspeakably lovely, what you come up with in airports.

Valerie said...

This is . . . well, I can't find a good enough word to describe it. So touching - and I love the photo.

em said...

reading and re-reading

in *silence*


anne bryant said...

this is really beautiful dayna. my brother's bday is tomorrow—maybe I'll call the big lug... :)

Debbi said...


I, Rodius said...

I love this. My feelings about the sibling relationship in adulthood are complicated. This is distilled in a lovely, achy sort of way. Thanks for your writing, particularly your most personal stories.

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