Brotherless - Ev Deans

National Poetry Month's 2nd Place Winner, 2024

I can't help but feel I failed him somehow.

We were young, but he was my brother

and as anyone with a brother will tell you

when you can't save your brother, your only thought is how you could have done more.

And although I could not have saved him in any way that mattered

not even if I were older or wiser

I can't help but wonder if my brother knew

that I would have killed a hundred other brothers for him. 

If he knew that for him I would have stormed and shaken the heavens.

That for him I would have stolen all the stars. 

They taught me how to be brotherless for the first year,

when I was younger and dumber,

but not for the fifty to eighty after that,

and I can't help but wish they'd just taught me linguistics instead 

if I'm just going to be clueless about being brotherless anyway.

For if I'd only known how to say it all back then

how to pour fifty to eighty years of love onto paper,

maybe he would have known in detail

just how many other brothers I would have killed to keep him.