Siblings

I remember how

we mourned our parents as 

many before us had done,

we became strong, independent,

responsible, brave

became the new elders of our own tribes,

without warning we three

become two,bereft

forced to mourn once more,

we reminisce from the darkest place

failing to see the candle’s light,

the deathly wound gapes open

and will be slow to heel,

once more the familial tontine

is dusted down, scratched out and

re-written on this blue/black ink of a day

and draws closer to its end

*

Graham R Sherwood 10/21