Phillip, my little brother:

in the photograph

of my homecoming

I see hands hold you high

over friends and uncles

and you don’t know me:

one hundred twenty-seven pounds

in dress greens,

the sides of my head

still shaved white,

my new smile

a covert operation.


Contents / Next Poem / Published Works 

By | 2012-01-19T23:08:57+00:00 December 27th, 2011|Last Lambs|0 Comments