I sit in the rose garden and watch my brother play.
He will pass away one day.
With two wooden swords he strikes a calculated blow
at his fake foe.
"AH HA!" he cries, and I jump a little from my seat.
He thrust his second sword into the air, his other straight ahead.
"Victory! Victory! I've won again!"
I nod a little, something that resembles a smile on my face.
But he sees, he knows me better than all.
"Why are you sad?" the young knight sheaths his sword
and rests his head on my knee.
I shake my head,
nothing,
and I know he saw through me again,
but he stays there, little skull so warm against my leg.
When he walked away, his face was a little darker.
No comments:
Post a Comment