Sunday, April 21, 2013

My Brother Michael

Please excuse that I use this space for a personal purpose today. My brother Michael Harron passed on to another consciousness two years ago. This is how I remember him.  


Michael was complications
with a bald spot
and side hair fringing down
like bed skirt tassles.

Michael was talent in a
toothpick body
especially at the last
when he was wasted
though he never wasted anything

Michael tracked trash nights
on Park Avenue
and hurried there to
trundle treasures in a
wheelbarrow or borrowed pickup
to his realm of rescued things.

Michael fabricated Christmas
at the final moment
huddled in a corner
sketching tuning penning lyrics
for a gift you’d never give away
and soon forgot was so last minute
because it came from him.

Michael had a smile that
glittered from his
curling lashes to his
grinning chin
and may have been
a turn he played on stage
like Shakespeare and the rest
he’d given life you only could believe.

Michael trailed a train of
enemies behind him
dazzled then discarded
but always fewer far
than those still
thriving in his thrall
when his dramatic exit
left us less enlivened
and he was finally forever gone.

By Alice Orr

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

What an interesting poem.
It conveys love without sentimentality. Great profile of your brother. I really like this . . . just another one of your talents.
Best, Jennie