My brother, in his small white bed, <br />held one end. <br />I tugged the other <br />to signal I was still awake. <br />We could have spoken, <br />could have sung <br />to one another, <br />we were in the same room <br />for five years, <br />but the soft cord <br />with its little frayed ends <br />connected us <br />in the dark, <br />gave comfort <br />even if we had been bickering <br />all day. <br />When he fell asleep first <br />and his end of the cord <br />dropped to the floor, <br />I missed him terribly, <br />though I could hear his even breath <br />and we had such long and separate lives <br />ahead.<br /><br />Naomi Shihab Nye<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/supple-cord/
