The Little Boy in the Gold Tuxedo

I come across a picture, from time to time
A younger version of me at a party with a little boy.
I think of you often, though it's been at least ten years,
The world spins so fast, it is hard enough to hang on, let alone keep in touch.
I hear bits of your life your mother tells mine.
Perhaps she passes word of me back to you.
I remember your birthday every year,
And hope that wherever you are it is a good day.
I wonder if we would have stayed closer,
Had you not moved to another neighborhood, gone to other schools.
I felt so awkward the last time we met,
Having been so long, we had become strangers.
I still call you my childhood best friend,
Because that is what you are, my brother.
I have a scar still under my left eye
From you throwing that canister for the blocks at me.
I do not have any scars (except the one on my right eyelid)
From the day you pulled my full grown puppy off of my face.
I thank you for that at least once a week
And, almost as often, for being my co-conspirator in our imaginary worlds.
I sometimes long for those lazy summer days,
Playing in our yards, enjoying the sun on a patch of clover.
I smile when I look back of those times,
To me you will always be the little boy in the gold tuxedo.