Remembering the circumstances of my brother's death from AIDS. |
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Old DogsShe called tonight and caught mewith something I knew, something we both knew He’s dying, you know Yeah, I know and I suddenly wished for a cigarette Something I hadn’t noticed in months There was a tremble to her voice and she cleared her throat as though embarrassed by it, eight thousand miles away Are you coming back to see him while you still can? No, I paused and wondered at the certainty with which I said that He wouldn’t want it at least I don’t think so I know I wouldn’t and I needed to clear my own throat He knows I love him and I think he’d be uncomfortable making small talk We agreed she’d test the water run it past the guy who lives with him and let me know But I already know that some old dogs want a quiet corner and not too much fuss Just to get on with it We’re both getting to be old dogs This brother of mine and me |
This poem is included in Jim Freeman's poetry collection THE SMELL OF TWEED AND TOBACCO available here in print or as an e-Book in your favorite formats. |