[Don Moss’s poetry is featured prominently in our upcoming film on Don Moss’s life and work. Image based on Vika Glitter’s “Kids”.]
Shared Favor
What if I had a brother?
More than one?
Just one—pay attention!
Younger, older?
Just a brother.
Patriotic, a war…
Blood needn’t spill or be shared.
Distant cousin?
Nor branch of some tree.
Then, an example.
When Ron said he hadn’t seen his dad in two years — or was it three?
and he was in town, close; didn’t rate a safe house, some apartment.
He’d let me know when, let me know where in the past part of town.
Was a dark brick row three-story, number 3. Come tomorrow,
and only in the morning before they move him once again.
Nothing more needed saying.
Not even why?
Only strangers call for whys.
He must have told…
No more need than talk to one’s self.
Brothers…
Yes, say little to know more.
So you drove?
You’re getting it; drove him there.
And you met…
No, I waited by the front window, by the radiator’s hiss;
couldn’t hear what they said. The aged glass animated a black gum.
Imagining I was on guard for those he was hidden from,
I’d tell Ron about that for a laugh, that his fear was my fear,
not for ourselves, but for the father that two made brothers share.
* * *
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More from Don Moss: Poetry on Film: Don Moss’s “Catoptrics”, Poetry On Film: Don Moss’s “Space Break”, Don Moss’s Breakfast Stories: “White Paper”