Brother

A day marred by the irrevocability of dissolution.

Six years old, and I am sitting on my mother’s bed,
watching her as she styles her hair just so.
I marveled at her beauty, internally hoping
that I would match her when I grew up.

My father walks in, his face gone pale,
and whisks my mother away with frantic tones.
I wait for what seems like a small eternity,
until a cry floats up from below.

I hasten to the stairs, where I sit
with my hands encircling the railings.
A man with no discernible features
stands in the doorway, his face
obscured by lambent sunlight.

I hear the name of my brother escape
from his lips, but after that it is as if
I am in a vacuum; I am transiently deaf.
Perhaps it was a blessing
to be spared from the wails.

I understood that he was a messenger,
and I wondered how he could stand
to watch a family crumble under words
that he himself had uttered.

Presently I still cannot comprehend
how a day, at first filled with such
pulchritude, could be marred
by the irrevocability of dissolution.

Reviews

[Miss Britni]

i like the way you write, this poem is beautiful.