Little Brother

Since I shared a poem about my sister, I feel it only fair to share one about my brother, written at the same time. He would have been about 5 or 6. My attempt at free verse.

Curious, sky blue, observers of the world

Dotted in the center with ebony spheres

Sometimes hold a shining light

And sometimes hold a sparkling tear

 

Tan leather big-bowed boots

Tread crammed with dirt and rocks

From countless hours of imaginative indulgence

Amidst all of the taken-for-granted things in nature

 

Freedom, enjoyment, ecstasy, crouching low in a hole

Amidst orange and black, dust covered, pastic construction toys

Dust covered himself and paying no mind

To the distractions nature provides.

Enraptured in play, constantly moving

 

Roughly textured, black, and bent

The thin limb from a tree, gripped in his hands

Holds and unseen purpose

Added to his motion, a centrepidal pole around which he rotates.

 

Enraptured with the tracks left in the dirt by toys

he watches the dust settle and his city develop

His machines lay foundations deeper than the eye can see

Where no knowledge will ever enter to discover

The base of all his reasoning

 

The sun shines calmly,

The breeze blows leaves across the yard.

Fallen leaves lifted by breaths of air

Seem to carry with them dreams to the clouds.

The End

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