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Posted by MFish

All twilight people are coming forth,
to make their presence known.
Arriving by the evening breeze,
tossed and turning, they have flown
to be present for the witching hour.
They dance lightly, in the air,
rhythmically jerking by hidden string
as transistors, in their voice box,
causes them to sing,
a mournful ditty.

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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