This poem was originally published on 9 May 2016.
We were stolen of a dance, By an unknown power, And weren’t given the chance, To dodge and counter. I’ll remember our foxtrots, Across the wooden floor, And god will be wrought, When I come calling at his door. You were not simply good. You were gorgeous. And as long as I can breathe, I’ll fight for us. But right now, my arms feel empty, And my soul badly worn, You carried me, But I couldn’t break your fall. The wind blew strong today, But I was the one howling, You barely even barked, Because your presence had feeling. Your ears were so big, You could hear what I didn’t say. Your eyes were so sharp, You knew what I hid away. Hey, little brother, You were young, naïve, But you were otherworldly, I do truly believe. I hope that you’re someplace, Gambolling about, With your comical expressions, That light the world around. Maybe this is a long bad dream, That you’ll wake me up from, Licking my nose, Looking at me like: “What’s the problem?” You went too soon, And you taught me so much. Come on now, just pitter-patter in, The door is open, bud. I’ll overthrow God for you. I promise you I will. And we’ll meet again someday, Chasing towels in the field.
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