dear brother

 dear brother, don’t forget
 to turn out the 
lights
 (dear brother, don’t forget
 to let go)
  
 the leaves will still choose
 to change their
colors
 and the earth beneath you will
 still turn
 all the same
  
 what is gone
 is over,
 the dead cannot
speak
 any more than they can hear;
 your cries remain
foreign 
 to closed ears
  
 (brother, to stay inside the still
 is a slow way
 to die)
  
 tragedy is every crack 
 in your road;
 every fistful of sand in your 
eyes
  
 we can make up
 our minds 
 to wash them clean
 or let each grain
 bore holes
 ‘til we go
blind
  
 so let, slow
 the veil that
 covers your soul
 slip back down
 from your face
 to the floor;
 mourn yesterday when 
it is
 (and only when
 it is)
 and close that
door
  
 and, brother,
 don’t forget to
 turn out
the lights


~ A. L. Stippich