A Brother’s Grip

I saw your shadow play
on a silver slide
in the corner of my room-

could almost hear
a solo glide
under my pillow.

Hours until daybreak,
with a soundtrack of rain
keeping the beat,

I lie half awake-
watch your silent movie
unspooling on the ceiling.

Selected byGrady VanWright
Image credit:Marine Sintes
Mark Becker

I was born in Washington, DC in the '50s, and though I am only one among billions in this world, I remain grateful for the wonderful people and animals I've known, know, and still love.

Being a son, brother, husband, father, uncle, and friend have made my long life worthwhile.

 The poems I write are small contributions I offer along the way...