Michael Estabrook writes

too late

I’m back in the Northfield Avenue house

in the driveway

no one’s there it’s dark

but the doors are open

I go in the side door and call out

turn on lights stick

my head into Kerry’s room

but of course he’s not in there

at his desk or ironing

and the dining room is a clutter

living room too

there’s a barbell in the kitchen

that’s odd

the old phone on the wall by the hallway

no door leading upstairs

where’s Kerry dammit

not the same

nothing’s the same

without my brother Kerry

he took an alternate path in life

could’ve been happier

if he finished college, married Pam

but too late for that now

too late

Intense Afternoon Sun -- Rebecca Harp