To My Brother (From the book “I Am Not White”)


To My Brother

Dusting the dirt from your old stone

cob webs blown in by way of Chicago

like bird feathers hiding our name

seems centuries since you left me

a pre-pubescent ghost child

I remember the brown beard grave

on a snowy cemetery face

legless eyeless lifeless

beneath mock mahogany

I feel your skeleton moving me

slowly inviting me to share

your eternal home of dirt

soon I must say, must whisper

for wind has ears and hears

fears tears and loss.

We are lost forever you and I.


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