Cain and Able

Oh brother...

For jealousy?

Was mother’s hand not as gentle,

Father’s eye not so constant?

For greed

or resentment — and resentment of what, my fondness

for following wherever you tread?

Was the ground beneath your feet

a taunt?

The sky above your head, a gift

denied?

For gain

or to protect?

Did the rain whisper into the canals of your ear?

Did the air sweep clear thoughts away in the wind?

And sunshine, what of that?

Remember when we lay on the sand, our eyes

shaded by hands, our eyes trying to fathom

the blue beneath the blue?

Oh brother...

Here I lie

a ditch now home,

my blood seeping like red ants across the ground

and I feel my heart

stumbling towards silence.

My thoughts

are filled with moments of you

for I never saw the violence coming

until after it had arrived

and the way your eyes turned hard as stone

shocked me...

and so brother, oh brother,

here I lie

and there you go

your shadow passing across my face

like a distant thought…

I remember as a babe

I held your finger and never thought to let go

not knowing

you always wished to.