The history of Prosperous Snow written for the group Reminiscences
To My Brother Frank
in concentric circles.
There you stand,
little changed since our last meeting.
And I who never like war
have the Navy and their War Games
to thank for this reunion.
As I listen to y our voice,
time becomes a swirling pool drawing
me deeper into our shared past.
with its red-blonde tinge,
is nothing like the one you tried to grow at fourteen
by shaving only y our upper lip.
There was the time,
you and Tom,
found the dead black snake in a neighbor's trash can,.
You tossed it into the house,
belly down, looking as if it had just crawled in the door.
At three you ran away,
with a neighbor girl of eh same age,
but it was her sister and I
who went looking for the two of you
and got into trouble.
Then there was our conversations
at the dinner table.
You would tap your fork on the table leg.
I would say, "Frank, stop that!"
Mom would say, "Frank, what are you doing to Neva?"
You would say, "Nothing."
We were always so different
you and I.
You ate your food one item at a time,
enjoyed putting my creamed peas on top of my mashed potatoes
As time's whirlpool moves back to the present,
I can tell you secrets
I could never tell anyone else.
Poet's Note: ▼