ROUGH AND TUMBLE BROTHERS

 ROUGH AND TUMBLE BROTHERS

(FOR THOM)

We grew up rough and tumble brothers in that green and brick house,

A little past the middle of Braxton Hill,

If I close my eyes and concentrate, I can conjure it up still.

When our mom brought me home from the hospital, 

You were on the floor playing with your toys,

Asked my mother where's the baby,

Took a disapproving look and made a disapproving noise

 Went back to playing with your toys, the action figures and the cars.

An inauspicious start to this brotherhood of ours.

Always smarter than me you skipped first grade

Like Oscar Wilde you had a quick wit.

Sarcasm that cut like a two sided blade.

It makes me smile to think of it.

Yet you defended me from bullies at the top of our hill,

Who appeared almost daily like trolls beneath a bridge,

You drove them off with an iron persistent will,

That caused them to surrender, enemy troops atop the ridge.

Meanwhile we passed the time with Nancy, Linda and Bruce,

Our neighbors up the hill and two streets over,

Or Cathy Williams and Tito Valinas, who were down the hill and over the way

With these staunch companions we passed the languid days.

We shared many of the same teachers, Mrs. Griffin, Trott and Earle.

Perhaps there were others but it's lost in a whirl. 

I tried to live up to the legacy of you who went before,

Never content to equal you, I needed to be more,

Struggling for A's on the progress reports,

Worried always I was coming up short.

In college we diverged, you to UVA, me to JMU,

I majored in English. you in French.

You pursued teaching, I pursued radio,

We both pursued romance, you found it first

With Tom and then with Richard. but I still had a thirst,

It was satisfied when I met Kyle,

At last a man who touched my heart and always made me smile.

We would all meet for dinners out or home cooked meals that you would make,

Always trying new recipes, like homemade ice cream, the raspberry cake.

In January of 2024 you decided to retire 

After 40 odd years of teaching French

When into your plans came a monkey wrench.

A strange sudden hoarseness that would not go away

They found the cancer in one of your lungs in April; the cruelest month

Despite chemo and radiotherapy by summer it had gone to your brain

By December you were on home oxygen, by the 22nd you were gone

Your spirit flying freely to a land of everlasting dawn.

And though the tears they flood my eyes, wet and overflowing

I take my comfort in them knowing, that like in Joni's song about clouds, 

We finally said I love you, over and over, right out loud.

And if melancholy ever threatens to overwhelm 

I'll take a memory trip back to the old  days,

When we were rough and tumble brothers in a green and brick house,

A little past the middle of Braxton Hill.

I can close my eyes and concentrate and conjure it up still.

-Bruce Potts

Copyright 2024

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED