Remembering My Brother Bobby
2016.03.25. arlene s bice
as kids
he worried about me, his little sister
up in the trees; walking the spiked fence,
riding my bike; arms stretched out wide,
engulfing a world from the middle of the street
he was the quiet one
we went to the movies on Saturday afternoons,
roller skating rink; baseball games;
I talked him into taking the shortcut home
he believed me to know the way, and I didn’t
we always got home safely
as a man
when his heart broke, he came to me;
I took his hand, we roamed all over Italy
drove through clouds down mountains
the dangerous curves of the Amalfi Coast
hanging over the brilliant, azure,
glittering Mediterranean Sea
in Verona, wandering streets at midnight
when he thought I knew the way, I didn’t
all lights were out, except one-a half
block away; a pizza place whose
owner was from New Jersey
he trusted me
his healed heart broke a second time
he came to the forests of North Carolina
anger and pain pouring out of him
with the gentle guidance of a loving sister
-I try not to be bossy-
he settled, calmed the waters by writing poetry
walking the dog, teaching high school kids
in his passing of life, he found peace at last.
