Used to beat the familiarity
and youth out of me
as a child;
his bony hands twitching like tree branches in Fall,
walking with his dark spectre-cloud trailing behind or
over his mumbling head; a hovering jellyfish of despair.
In some ways he walks like everyone else.
Like everyone else,
I am my brother's keeper.
I keep him away.
2River View, 2_3 (Spring 1998)