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
once
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.
Friday, February 27, 2009
my brothers
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6 comments:
Unspeakably lovely, what you come up with in airports.
This is . . . well, I can't find a good enough word to describe it. So touching - and I love the photo.
reading and re-reading
in *silence*
;)
this is really beautiful dayna. my brother's bday is tomorrow—maybe I'll call the big lug... :)
Beautiful.
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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