And Brother
home from Vietnam
his wild eyes dart
his brain silently screams
and seeks to escape
Aunt Gail weeps silently
While Papa holds
a steady gaze
looking
from person to person
Hoping to hold on
Just hold on.
As in
waiting for the light to change
Or, as a corps of dancers
wait
for the curtain to rise
Or hearts climb
walls while
a once again drunk relative makes
yet another
mindlessly insipid toast
Remember those who could not
join us for these holidays
Those who have
crossed over before us.
Without us.
We collectively hold our breath
while Uncle Seaward becomes angry
He begins a diatribe coupled
with a punch into the air
in a remembered combat
Rising and falling,
his voice quickening and cracking
His glass eye remaining fixed
While his good eye cries
hot tears of loss.
We call on patience
to see us through
To make another memory of family
Gathering and accepting
each others’ struggles
Please. Pass the bread pudding.
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