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  • He Was Only My Half-Brother

    "It will not be easy to make this good.
    Your life's brief blaze, in dying,
    mars the world."
    For My Brother by Greg Kuzma

    He was only my half-brother,
    blond, a towhead,
    from cradle to grave,
    only one in the family.

    calculus was child's play,
    child's infectious laughter,
    child's attention span.

    Friends everywhere, only
    five minutes and you knew:
    you were his new best friend.
    Loyalty given and returned.

    Inherited his father's farm,
    but not his father's work ethic.
    A crop here, a few illegal plants there.
    Too much dreaming, too little labor.

    Collected found arrowheads,
    could explain where to look,
    why early natives would live there,
    light a campfire right there to work stone.

    Read, listened, absorbed life,
    could always tell you
    more than you imagined.
    He, we, never imagined this.

    All questions pending,
    memories flicker, flash unbidden,
    empty heart chambers.
    He was my brother.

    ┬ęKim McNealy Sosin