Jackie
Waking you tell me in a voice I no longer hear.
He came.
Opening the second bag you say.
My brother is sick.
You tell me its my birthday.
April !st.
Waiting by the front door and crying.
He never comes.
Hugging me tightly and telling me you love me.
I leave.
Sleeping peacefully the lid is closed.
I cry.
My Brother took a bag trick or treating for me when I was sick. He was found dead in 1985
Copyright © Patrick Cornwall | Year Posted 2011
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