
Image by author. (He made me step off the curb. He’s not really taller than me.)
Luckiest Man Alive
If you asked me
what makes a man
– and I mean
a good man;
someone who
keeps it one-hundred
at all times –
I would pause, smile
and tell you all about
my little brother.
If you asked me
what makes a man
a devoted dad
who may not have
all the right answers
all the time,
but who still
throws himself, full-assed
into the thankless
hard parts,
again,
I’d begin the convo
with my lil’ bro.
If you asked me
what makes a man
a keeper of the flame
a caretaker of
my earliest dreams
and fears
a silent observer
when silence is needed
a vocal objector
when I need to be checked
and called-out
the loudest supporter
when I need saving
from myself
and the ruckus-bringer
when shit gets too hot
and needs extinguishing
with a flame-thrower,
well shit,
you should already know
though I do feel bad for you
and great for me.
You see,
I’m the one
lucky enough
to be able to say,
“Let me tell you about
my lil’ bro, Phil…”
***
Written for my lil’ bro Phil, on the occasion of his 40th birthday, and shared on dVerse OpenLinkNight #243. Others contributed poems here.