My Brother

His eyes

were as if the valves were shot off—

nearly sealed...!

What propelled such despair in his face?

Now wrinkled,

with deep ravines

(of old age).

Too many wakes,

too many sorrows

(for my brother).

A Minnesota Man’s fate!

Yes, it was that.

His mind, out to sea

in lonely exaltation

blaming nobody

(just old age undefeated,

too many wakes, and too many

sorrows…

too close to tomorrow).

Can he take more dread?

My mind asked and said:

which brings no peace?

Days and years pass,

old age creeps, slowly creeps.

Now sown with salt:

joy that once was

is joy most difficult—

The snake will not leave him alone,

so they share the world—

owing to neither an inch…

nor giving an ounce!

#3315 (3-30-2012)

For Mike, my brother