“Too Soon”

When death is fresh

I do not fight the tears.

My beloved brother is gone,

and a mysterious force grips

and holds all of me

in darkness.

An anniversary

connotes celebration,

but the first year

marker of Dan’s death

is anything but.

I begin to move, but

don’t want to.

If a pleasant memory dares

surface, I beat it back

into the darkness amid

echoes in my lonely mind:

“Too soon.”

I am in disbelief

when death anniversary

five arrives.

So soon?

My life is back on track,

but Dan again fills my thoughts

and shafts of light

penetrate the darkness.

But when a friend

offers a funny story

about my brother, I reply:

“Too soon.”

When I observe

the fifteenth year

of Dan’s death,

there is no darkness.

Just a bright light

that illuminates every

corner of his short life,

virtues, vices, silliness.

And when another brother

offers a funny story

about Dan, I reply, “Too soon.”

And we laugh uproariously.