Thinking of my brother.
He would have been sixty-eight today.
Instead he never saw fifty.
We grew up cheek by jowl.
Our family was always on the move.
In our formative years we only had each other.
When we grew up I wanted to be a priest.
He was cool and wanted to have a good time.
In my imagination he’s running a bar near the beach in Belize.
Every day is a walk on the beach.
And every night is a party.
Moss Grows Freely
Donald Loren Ford
Rest in Peace
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