Poem Hunter
(15/07/56 / Curragh Camp, Co. Kildare, Eire.)



Oh little brother
you and I

standing...staring at a sky
and your childish question

"You know
when you die..? "

"Yes...? " I answer
unsure where this is going.

"Will...there still...be
weather? "

"Weather...how? " I stall
not knowing...how to answer.

"You know...like clouds? "
you loving how they change from

one thing to

So I assure you
and reassure myself.

"Yes there will still be
weather...when you die."

You say nothing.
Trusting all I say.

I the elder brother
knowing the truth of all things.

Now all these years later
you have stepped across an horizon

that dividing line
between knowing and not-knowing.

"Well, Bud...? " I say
"...is there still

weather when
you die? "

Only you know

And a cloud answers
in the shape of your smile.

User Rating: 5 / 5 ( 0 votes ) 1

Comments (1)

That’s a lovely poem. Thank you for sharing