Remembering Brother Bob
– William Stafford
Tell me, you years I had for my life,
tell me a day, that day it snowed
and I played hockey in the cold.
Bob was seven, then, and I was twelve,
and strong. The sun went down. I turned
and Bob was crying on the shore.
Do I remember kindness? Did I
shield my brother, comfort him?
Tell me, you years I had for my life.
Yes, I carried him. I took
him home. But I complained. I see
the darkness; it comes near: and Bob,
who is gone now, and the other kids.
I am the zero in the scene:
“You said you would be brave,” I chided
him. “I’ll not take you again.”
Years, I look at the white across
this page, and think: I never did.
For more information on William Stafford, please click here: http://www.poets.org/poet.php/prmPID/224