This rumination came from growing awareness of my mortality which, in turn, is generated and measured by the expanding list of things once given or assumed that, alas, are no longer possible.

The Mirror

How shall I talk to you, my friend?

How should I regard you

(and will I care)

as you grow ever older before my gaze

while I stay young?

Who are you? Dare I look on yo...

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I wrote this piece while I was caring for my identical twin brother, following major surgery. Nearly everything you may have heard about identical twins is true.

Brother

The pain of being is not mine, but

my brother's. He cries and howls the Midnight

down into uneasy drowse

as the daylight lifts his covers

over swelling clouds of hurt.

Breaking, I balm him a little,

wh...

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