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Local Focus – Global Reach

Posted by MFish

Well before the leaves turn brown,
Colors will be all around,
Turning shades of yellows and reds,
On their daily grasp of life.
When the brown is at its best,
The Fall winds come from the West,
Shaking limbs and branches readily
And brown leaves fall to the ground,
A sea of dryness, all in brown.

A shadow fell across the moon
the day my brother died
and grief poured from my soul
and tore me up inside.

I can't remember, in this short life
and perhaps I've never tried,
to think about the grief and sorrow
the day my brother died,
for he was but a child of three
and should have lived, much longer.
I'm sure he would have if God had made
his body that much stronger.

The years have passed, as has the grief and sorrow
and eyes then wet with tears, have dried,
but I will always remember
the day my brother died.

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