By Carolyn Powers
My brother, sitting beside me
is going away.
His body will remain, but his person–
the very essence that is my brother–
is leaving us both.
There is urgency to speak,
to share memories while we still can.
Unspoken love must be made real,
a lifeline to grasp before
the heaving sea of disease
What can I say?
How can I comfort him–and myself?
I want to grasp his hand and say
“Before you go . . . before you go . . “