For Craig

If I call you son and not brother
it is because I pray
my son learns your conceit  your daring 
who came so late and left too soon
If I call you brother  and not son
it is to mourn my own loss
that my mother did not live long enough 
to bear you.

You said we should always be brave 
and I try to be  every morning
over my toothbrush and the waning stars 
I peer through your eyes
through your taut heart's muscle 
beating war rhythms
with determination
and a brush of bells.