To My Dearest Brother
by Anita ParkerRemember
Raw bacon
Mom forbade us to eat
Hiding behind the car
Inviting pink flesh slipped through our fingers
On the waves of cold, white, greasy fat.
Slimy hands and telltale fingerprints
Give us awayChildlike tickle games
You chase me, then I chase you
Laughter, never-ending funSmoke rings from the full brownness of your lips amaze me
I hide cigarettes to save you from sickness
A sweet voice and persuasive grin coax them from under my
Bed
I smell of smoke
I don’t mindTrouble is brewing
Dad is angry
Mom is sad
Familliar sweatshirts and jeans
Packed away in the duffle-bag
Slung carelessly over your shoulder
Slim, dark silhouettes fades against the subdued hues of
Dusk
I miss you alreadyI’m growing, maturing
Please hurry home
Time is running out
Soon I will leave
To live my own lifeMany years later
I’m older, wiser
The bond between is
Not yet broken
The kindness and sympathy that is your nature
Lost to me foreverYouth now is just a memory
The bacon and cigarettes of yesteryear
Merely faded images
Recalled only by soulful ballads on a rainy afternoon
When I take time toRemember.
from Image 88-89, vol. 28
For the annual Bellvue East arts magazine. Anita was on the board and was a typist and copy editor. This was one of her contributions.
You are so lucky to have kept this treasure trove of Anita’s writings from all these different times of her life. So many (me included) end up throwing out writings, not realizing what richness they might bring to loved ones after we’re gone.
Her writing is beautiful. I just came across this page. I am tempted to feel sad, but, it has inspired me. Thank you Anita.