I sat beside you in the night. We imagined
we were in a 1920’s car, as we rode
in a golf cart through haunted woods. You
had chosen to ride with me,
on this adventure. The headlights
illumined unreal monsters as they leapt
from the woods, our laughter
echoing along with the hum
of the motor. The horror
of life at bay.
of our yearly ritual. Blader,
asleep and I had a drink
with your brother. We laughed
at how much we loved you. How much
you and I had in common. You,
the only child at our Halloween party,
our friends 13 years older
than you. You were a pirate. One year
the haunted house was too much for you
and the other kids. You all panicked, but
we finished the gore fest
without you. You said the alley
where you waited was scarier. Every October
we shared for 18 years.
Every new October
is now a memory
of what will never be.
I wrote this draft as part of National Poetry Writing Month. I hope to collect these works for a mixed media/writing piece I am working on entitled Love Letters to My Brother in Prison.