my oldest brother

Eddie

Sitting there on the couch, he was
Filling his tobacco pouch, a pause,
Not the usual Eddie smile.
I'm looking at him all the while.

My mother there, again her stare
makes me think: "There's something there."

"It's nothing, Ma,"
He notes concern and sitting tall
"It's nothing, Ma," relaxing then
"A stomach burn" is all.

He smiled at me and made some joke
About what I'm "doing with older folk."
Then it was time — he had to leave.
He touched my mother, yanked my sleeve.

I saw him next in a hospital bed
"Don't look at me like that," he said.
I wasn't aware but it showed there
My disbelief — my deepest care —
And all the while, his smile was there.