Landslides and Pigsties
Dear Brother.
You used to be so alive- the ever-frantic butterfly.
Lightning-quick-witted, with a warm summer smile.
Always pulling little brother up from the pigsty.
Now you're hobbled by disease and age.
The expanse of your galaxy shrinking.
To the size of a porta potty and a word search page.
You've donated your trusty old car to charity.
How far can one travel with a turtle's cane?
Are you caving in on life or is life caving in on you?
The glitter of youth has taken on a much duller hue.
Fate has placed you into the black heart of a landslide.
I can do nothing but watch as you go over the side.
I don't have your strength to lift you up from this stye.
Dear brother, I fear that you've abandoned your mind.
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