You are kind. You are good. by Tamar Ascher Shai

You are kind. You are good.

Your eyes glitter with unwept tears,
you mourn our childhood years.
Heavy with sorrow for your loss
My words sound hollow while
I compare the stories of our past,
the longer you talk, the deeper the gap.

More than ever I want to tell you
about the brother whom I knew
and always wanted to impress;
it’s my love for you I want to confess.

So I begin. You are kind. You are strong.
I was convinced you were never wrong.
One memory that remains with me forever:
How you calmed my night-time terror
by putting a pen knife under my pillow.

Ever since we were children I always walk too slow,
trying to catch up with your long strides,
hurrying so as to pull up by your side.
Craving your closeness gave speed to my walk.

You told me, “People who feel comfortable with each other don’t talk”,
and yet with childish chatter I would try to fill
the spaces between us, as you kept still.

And now, as the tears finally break free,
they are just enough to allow you to see – at last,
the loneliness of our joint and so separate past.

by Tamar Ascher Shai

Editor’s Note: Unexpected rhyme weaves the elements in this poem into an almost-ode, where the reader learns that to understand grief, one must first release what never was.