I want to break down the doors of his room <br />And call out “I am here! ” <br />But I <br />Wait. <br />(Watch fish in a fish tank) <br />Wait… <br /> <br />Wishing to hold his thin pink hands <br />Kiss every corner of his tear speckled face <br />Wishing him safety, comfort, and all my love. <br /> <br />All I want is to have him in my arms again. <br /> <br />Six years later: <br />“Silvio! Be careful! ” <br />I call out as he races up and down the street <br />On his bike with its training wheels <br />I watch his helmeted head pass parked cars, <br />Scanning the area for pick-up trucks, strangers, sticks in the road. <br /> <br />He rides over some loose gravel, topples. <br />I run to him, help him up, <br />Brush off his pants, inspect his knees for scratches. <br />“You ok, buddy? Good.” <br />A kiss on the head sends him on his way. <br /> <br />And I think back to those minutes in an Illinois hospital hallway <br />It was a staph infection, not a bike fall <br />And I wasn’t allowed to hold him.<br /><br />gina prettybrowneyes<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/for-a-youngest-brother/
