John Grey
We love differently
but my brother and I adore
the stars the same way,
the glittering vaudeville of night
so sweet from twin beds
or the creak of midnight porch.
He’s long out of the house
these days
and my father speaks rarely of him
and then, only in low tones,
looking away
as if no eyes should meet
when his name is mentioned.
Yet he’s still my father
and I’m unwilling
to hate the hater.
For his crimes
are softened
by fishing trips,
the flash of trout
jerked from icy water,
the gathering into tribes
around the ample catch.
Later, we sit by the fire,
warm and comfortable.
Just the two of us.
But there’s enough stars in the sky
for three.
John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident, recently published in New World Writing, City Brink and Tenth Muse. Latest books, “Subject Matters”,” Between Two Fires” and “Covert” are available through Amazon. Work upcoming in Hawaii Pacific Review, Amazing Stories, and Cantos.