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Poem To A Brother MAG
You are my dear friend
We laughed till it hurt
swinging as high as we could,
holding our breath past the graveyard
on Main Street
eating the crispy snow,
building your fortresses
I followed your lead.
Hiding from pollution,
our faces covered with dirty
saliva-soaked turtleneck
smelling like my sucked and swollen thumb ,
"don't let the bad air in."
In awe of the dense world
behind the house
twinkling green like shallow
water by the shore
the sun pouring into its surface
and reflecting back, brilliant.
Beams of light shot through
those leaves. Silver shine.
Your castle stood,
two massive trees with colliding branches,
our homemade canopy thrown over:
a ceiling,
a tent.
We were medieval playmates.
Raisins and peanuts: our favorite snack;
the yellow lawn chair ,
big enough for two ,
it left irritated designs on your
soft skin
itching, pinching like the
wool sweater Mom wanted me to wear,
But we lay there all afternoon
never without our motorcycle helmets on
in case we crashed.
Do you remember, brother?
Smiling, smirking with wild eyes
showing me the shortcuts.
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