This was just published by the Loyalhanna Review.

Your Birthday Would Be This Week

Just past the tunnel

the road rises,

and from its crest

I see the lights

of an entire city

shine like memories

of a life left.

When did we last

really talk,

my brother and I?

Even here,

we settle into roles

enshrined by childhood.

You play the tough guy

in a bad B movie,

and I become

​​​​​​​​​​the simpering sidekick.

Our patter is so to script

we manage not to mention

the hospice team,

the feeding tube

and morphine drip

that keep your heart

barely beating.

It is nearly morning

when I reach the turnpike

and the road

seems suddenly unfamiliar.

It is only then I realize

the lights of the city

have gone out.