Last night for the first time since you were dead <br />I walked with you, my brother, in a dream. <br />We were at home again beside the stream <br />Fringed with tall berry bushes, white and red. <br />"Don't touch them: they are poisonous," I said. <br />But your hand hovered, and I saw a beam <br />Of strange, bright laughter flying round your head <br />And as you stooped I saw the berries gleam. <br />"Don't you remember? We called them Dead Man's <br /> Bread!" <br /> I woke and heard the wind moan and the roar <br />Of the dark water tumbling on the shore. <br />Where--where is the path of my dream for my eager <br /> feet? <br />By the remembered stream my brother stands <br />Waiting for me with berries in his hands... <br />"These are my body. Sister, take and eat."<br /><br />Katherine Mansfield<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-l-h-b-1894-1915/
