Once again, they were alone, Like in the beginning, Only now it is winter and The backseat of their car Rides emptied, a painful Reminder of an early frost, Their baby’s last breath still resting Warm on their icy cheeks.   And now, but for the rattle Of a loose tailpipe That always gripes over…

Sometimes I remind myself of my oldest brother, Tony, who died a few years ago. A gesture, a certain familiar sound to my voice and then he’s with me again for a few seconds. Invariably, that realization saddens me. My brother never came to know me well as a person, yet I carry part of…