Scoop up those leaves,
take them to your mom and dad,
don't forget the rake,
hang it up on the hook,
the one that your brother used,
that secret you kept for him.
They were blind to what he was,
but you knew his inner demons,
the way he looked at them,
eyes gleaming with red and brown,
don't look at it,
and cover your ears,
the sounds are not there anymore.
Years have passed,
your parents are not so youthful,
the hook is gone,
and so are the bones,
your brother no longer loves you,
or calls you at night.
Soon the leaves will appear,
green and strong,
tiny buds become flowers,
another one rip for the taking,
put them in a vase on a shelf,
show them to your friends,
while keeping the secret safe.
pisaries.blog 