Urban Rancher Publishing

Little Brother        
As the sunset deepened, and the sky turned a crimson color, the Urban Rancher looked even deeper inward, and almost like a revelation, he realized that in his looking inward, he had finally come to the pivotal event which shaped his childhood, and his future years of adulthood ...

 


Poems

The Urban Rancher
My Bike
Childhood's Maze
It's Almost Too Late
Little Brother
Floppy-Eared Dog
Only in Estes
Midlife
Death of an Old Friend
Flowers
The Mirror
McGraw Ranch
The Breakfast Ride
The Steak Fry
The Old Cowboy
The Mummy
The Ride
The Character
Our Steeds
The Garden
The Honeymoon Night
The Perfume
The Last Ranch
Patterns
Our Reunion
Where Are You Now?
The Forties
Mortality
Co-Dependents
Make Some Memories
Reflections
The High Country
How Can We Help?
Skybear
One of Those Days
The Vultures
Looking Backwards

For thirty-eight years, I've carried the weight
Of the belief that something I'd done,
Had caused the loss of the health and the life
Of my younger brother, of which there was one.

My older brother and I, chasing each other,
Running through the house as kids do,
Knocked him down by mistake, he injured his head,
And our carefree kid days were through.

He was five years old then, and over the time,
His body grew up with the years.
But his mind stayed behind, retarded he was,
And that was the start of the fears.

Very quiet we were, or the convulsions would come,
He ate with a football helmet on his head.
And the nights were the worst, for not many slept,
As he struggled and thrashed in his bed.

I grew quiet and withdrawn, and lived in my world
Of books and fantasy and fear.
On the surface I seemed fine, but inside I hurt,
And I grew shyer and shyer each year.

Finally he became too much to care for at home,
And he was placed in Laradon Hall.
He lived there several years, quite a happy child,
Until the day my mother got the call.

I still can see her slumped over by the phone,
As she was told that my little brother had died.
The worst thing for her was not getting to say
Good-bye to him, and she cried, and she cried.

I finally shared this with my father one day
As I asked about what I was like.
He said, "Oh, no! Have you been carrying this
All this time since you were a tyke?"

"That's not true at all - that was just a fall,
His problems started six months before!
He'd had unconscious spells before he was hurt,
The disease had already thrown him to the floor!"

Encephalitis it was, the autopsy showed,
Probably from a mosquito's bite.
It caused the retarding, and it burst his heart,
And let him move on to the light.

I was amazed that I felt a great lifting of weight
From my soul as I heard what he said.
The pain and the fear that I'd felt for so long,
Began to lift from my heart and my head.

As an adult, I know it was just fate,
An accident for which there's no real blame.
For that eight year old boy, still inside of me now,
His misconception was his reality all the same.

As I release the pain, and peel away the fears,
I find talents and skills, words and song.
Things I had no idea were there, I almost missed out,
Because I almost waited too long.

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Urban Rancher Publishing, PO Box 3946,
Estes Park CO 80517-3946 USA
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E-mail: urbanrch@frii.com


Copyright (c) 2008 Urban Rancher Publishing, Revised 18 May 2008