I understand it better now,
The fall, how you missed the first step,
From there tumbling to the stone floor
And lying there till your brother
Came to find you when I had not
Been able to reach you by phone
And you had not shown up to eat
Your mother's Thanksgiving day meal.
No angel there to break your fall,
Past the curved grain scythe you had nailed
To the wall among the other
Antiques and bric-a-brac found here
And there at yard sales and antique
Malls. You were a scavenger, lost
Among the women and children
Who might have made a family
And yet did not connect somehow.
I recognized your pain, knowing
How you tried the medications,
Manic at times, though never quite
Level and never good enough
To replace the Russian water,
Cigarettes and desperation.
I carried you out, with our friends,
Mummified like a believer.
You've come back in dreams and handed
Me pieces of your muddy flesh
And broken bones and said make words.