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The Day My Brother Flew

The day my brother flew,
I prayed for the last time;
Asked for his acceptance,
A chance to say goodbye.
Stood inside the chapel,
Whispered through the motions,
Knowing in my chest
I did not believe.
Months gone from that day,
I stood inside a basement,
Staring out the window,
Chainlink in my eyes.
A host of white lights came,
Gathered right beside me,
Waited till I turned,
Slowly sank away.
I never told my folks.
They could not believe it.
I don't know what I saw,
If I’m lying to myself.
The day my brother flew,
I sat down on a stairstep,
Fingers in my hair,
Asking why I breathe.
He lived and enjoyed life.
I don’t even like it.
That was '91;
The answer never came.

Comments

Lisa Chapman said…
This is a moving poem - it reveals much. It may be my favorite of your poems since I started reading your work.
Clare said…
I love the depth and questioning in this. My heart also broke while reading it.
_Soulless_ said…
Heart-rending piece. The 'confessional' tone is apt and moving.

One's 'flight' can be 'shared' by two. Be blessed. Cheers.
Another amazing poem! How do you do that?
Cheoy Lee said…
This is beautiful.

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