A posthumous letter came today:
My Dear Brother Fran;
I assume it began;
Your Loving Brother Sean.
It ends.
I'll never read those lines;
I know what's down between his lines;
His words and thoughts would break me.
His ink would stain my hands;
Leached through lines with real tears,
Dropping like time's sands.

He'd wax on our youthful days,
Wane on years we let slip past;
I don't need to read the words,
You know all things must pass.

I'll not sit to read his letter.

I'll recall how we were before,
When he was six and I was four,
Skating on the basement floor,
Or sliding down the new clothes line,
As pennants waving in the wind.

He taught me much of what he knew,
Just doing what big brothers do.
And always had my back.

I don't recall, but I'm pretty sure
We had our dumb-*** quarrels;
But I remember hitting *****,
Kicking, catching, throwing curves,
Rackets, sticks, clubs and bats,
Our cruel crew cuts beneath our hats.

He raised my game in everything;
Said I could do anything.
I'll remember his glance in the mirror
Going out the door.

If I ever read that letter,
I surely would regret forever,
Miss saying, I Love You too.

No, I'll never need to read his letter,
To remember Sean in his prime;
To recall the days when we two shined.

Lace the blades, Sean.
I'll be fine.

I sat on the side of the hospital bed waiting for the tubes to be removed
I sat on the side of the hospital bed praying for you to breathe
I sat on the side of the hospital bed hoping for you to live
I sat on the side of the hospital bed happy your pain had been relieved

They said it’s okay to be sad

I sit on the side of your grave praying for a sign
I sit in the rain praying for more time
I sit in the coffee shop reading a book I thought you might like
I sit in an office waiting for a chat

They say that crying helps

I cry out to the heavens why
I cry out if you love me then why did you leave
I cry and sob and break

I sat on the side of your hospital bed, I sit in the rain, I cry out for help