This is the Road.

This is the road

we used to walk

to get the school coach

way back.

The road seemed

less busy then

and we could walk side by side

talking sometimes

holding hands

often joking

about the school day

or talking about what

the day might bring

as we made our way.

The road is busy now

almost endless traffic passing by

the houses where we once lived

have been bought and sold

many times longer after.

I remember those days

and recall the brother

decades later

telling of your demise

from cancer's drag.

If I stand still

along the road

decades after

I sense your presence

and ghostly laughter.