Tethered

Kelly Sievers, CRNA

 

--for my brother, diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease

 

My brother, a boy running a kite on a white beach.
This can only be a dream.
His dragon kite falters and I am a girl stretching her arms skyward.
When he calls,
“Coming down, Mary, coming down,” I catch the kite.
When his voice arches,
“Ready?” I spring to straighten the kite’s tail, “Ready!”
“Let’er rip!” My brother yells--

I am my arms, my laughter, my brother’s laughter,

ascending.

Virginia Night Pastoral

In black tupelo treetops

blunt bodies of cicadas

vibrate. Their sultry buzz

arcs above the racket

of crickets’ cadenced legs,

frogs’ gruff gossip. The sound

bends beneath these trees

to wed my brother’s

new tremor, the rise

and fall of his hand

an augur with syllables

silencing our night.