Fall and school has started up again with our actions of
throwing, laughing, jumping and sounds…
wait! Wait! “Give him back his ball,” I am yelling;
backing a junior across the grounds.

He is a freshman and he is still just beautiful,
And he is mine. My little brother.
The three years class difference is paramount as
I see him the target- Not now, not ever.

When we hear the stories and relive the stories from parents,
Do we even know their truths?
Standing by, at 2 ½ as he is born.
Suppose? Just suppose I admit, I don’t recall?

I towered him forever, to that day
I watched over him for always, has never gone away
So many tales and a little one followed too – so I had double duty
And was the task of love, true.

Mamma was nearing 19 when Bill was born
She was an old one, 21 with the baby surprise
Stories of begging Daddy for me, as she was full 16
Nearly. Dearly.

Brother Bill, 70 last month, my mind smiles to him
He grew 6 ft and gave me five kin, left the Air Force after the defend
On to Langley he helped America strong
Now, his decisions in moving along.

He leaves comfort of satellites and secrets
He enjoys his baby as he does year 12 of school
My brother, my friend, music and words we share
Nothing like joy of having him here.

The boy backed across the yard, probably only a couple strides
Was always loved and we both take pride of being friends-we never set aside.
The days still moving and memories glow
As Brother announces, “I am going to go”.

If everyone has a brother with these times shared
You are blessed beyond
I have not one, but two and this is the old one I share with you.
Happy retirement, October 31, Brother Bill.

Barbara McDonald