The Giver

A phone call with news that took away all her breath

Scant details, but announced her big brothers’ death

She had got to know him once, long ago

He killed a man and was in prison six states below

They had random visits thanks to a sister by half

She enjoyed their time, their talks, shared laughs

A trip to pick up mail brought tears and a strain

The small, heavy box was marked “Human Remains”

She drove out in late evening, camped alone in the dark

Got to a crossroads and made the left choice to park

With tie-died blanket, photos, letters, and beer

She created a shrine, centered on the box that held the one she held dear

She wailed – truly wailed – and wrote him one last time

While the ravens and river otter watched, bees busy at hive

She slowly unveiled his remains and waded into the river

And in gentle arches she released him back to The Giver

D n A

His-tory

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We loved and fought,

You carried me through,

I knew not what I was to you.

You went your way,

I made mine,

I did not know there was so little time

A baby,

Some bars,

You had none, yet kept mine from harms.

New beginning, new promise,

A life yet to live,

You had so many chances, but choose not to give.

Broken promises,

Lost hope,

Thinking of nothing but dope.

Hurt mom, hurt sis,

Why they ask,

They don’t warrant a glance.

Dead body,

Dead field,

No answers revealed.

We loved and fought,

You carried me through,

I still do not know what I was to you.