Friday, December 2, 2011

My Poem For My Brother

Poe's Raven by
Poe's Raven, a photo by on Flickr.
Okay, so I REALLY hate sharing my poetry because I always think it sucks, but I was inspired to share this when I read Michael Lassell's How To Watch Your Brother Die today. Here is something I wrote the morning my brother died.

"It's okay", I told him
"I want to be scared."
And I meant to hear him read aloud
Poe, you know? The Raven and Lenore
Not a 43-year-year-old never more
He held me
And he read to me
And he crashed the brown station wagon and fell down laughing
He disappeared under Daddy
And he just laid still
And he stayed on the floor long after Daddy had forgotten the morning
I sat there trembling
Afraid to touch him, afraid to leave him there
We rehearsed this scene so many times
Until we got it right, even Daddy
When he came home from work
At parties I shouldn't have gone to
And later, at the hospitals
The needles, his sleeves
His yellow, baron arms
You'd think they'd have carved something more interesting, more beautiful and true
Meaningful, but no, just yellow
He only a muppet
He loved me, secretly and away, but he loved me with all and then halted
I stayed
I stayed until I couldn't
I left
And he felt comfortable dying
He left
And I still needed him, who loved me most


Alana said...

Goosebumps and tears welling in my eyes. So raw and loving. What a beautiful tribute.

Chicago Dave said...

Alana beat me to the adjective: RAW.

Raw and wise and fragile and lovely.You have to live fully every day and you know this better than most. After three heart surgeries in five months, I have learned it too.

I think your brother would be proud to know you keep him around in your fund-raising efforts and charity work. You are doing "the Lord's work" - if that's even possible for one agnostic to say to another....

Whatever the case, KEEP WRITING !

Anonymous said...

Beautiful (such a lame word!), Carla Thanks for that
Peace (from the bottom of my heart)