(Written for my little brother Eric, Feb. ’85, when I was 14).
As he cuddled softly in my arms like a helpless young fawn, I could feel his heart race with fear and see his fists clench with every boom in the sky.
The rain poured harshly against the windows, and the trees were brutally beaten by the wind. The leaves lay astray on the ground, leaving the trees bare, alone and ashamed.
The thunder booms and the sky brightly lit reveals an eerie grave of leaves. They fall close, so as to stay warm from the cold hand of the wind.
My brother lays heavy, yet his limp body is as peaceful and calm as a blue morning sky. His is safe, for it’s only a storm.
He wakes quickly and smiles but is still afraid of the howling wind as it makes its ghostly music through the treetops.
A squirrel is safe in its nest and no bird flies willingly tonight. It’s now calm in the house and the rain is letting up.
A city prepares to die. What is the real time now for blemishing the skin of a man? In your violet eyes I will find a moon for an encounter. An alien wall comes up between us.We cannot shed the
Am I Alive, or am I dead? Is this all just a dream inside my head? I feel like I’m losing my grip. Quick say something, anything before I slip. Nightmares slowly creeping. Has he finally come to do the
There’s a hurricane roaring outside and a storm brewing in my heart; so may emotions in so little time, first push you aside then call you mine. Doubts racing across my mind clouding my usual common sense. Give me time
We Start every morning like the old Silver Fox We get out of breath putting on our socks We look in the mirror and make such a fuss there’s two old people looking back at us We stumble to the
What I would tell you, only if I could I would tell you that I love you in the morning, over our morning coffee I would tell you that I love you, through a text, to see when we could
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