In was you and me
I took $100
And bought a Sears electric typewriter,
A brother in disguise, and
You, a manual one;
it was a Brother, too.
Oh, who would think that plastic,
And fresh-painted steel
Could be so romantic?
If Hemingway had napkins
We had Brothers;
You and me hugging
The table ,
Our brothers, and
The coffee machine.
We wrote that summer, though we were just boys
I, a novella, of kids running away
And you, a boy running away
Yes, there were four brothers so long ago
In that room there.
Because napkins were too expensive.
Only one still writes.
The Brother(s) embrace no more.
Tribute to my brother; written by Earl Yarington @2019 all rights reserved