A Brother's Lament

A Brother's Lament

Alexander Jackson

for Andrew

It is yours to walk and mine to sing in the fog.

Why did I follow you down the rocks and slick 
To the river bank encircling the world?
You drank the un-bodied way and left me.
I would follow you across but—in the current
Mortality uncoils. I only guess at your ascent
On the far side where fog blurs your shape.

The world sleeps to the night in which you sleep.
What will they all do, bereft
Of your freefalling, pitch-high laughter? 
My voice will gather your song, awaken them
To the substance of your life.

Can I carry your refrain?
What you sang then is inaccessible,
Tucked in memory that crumbles under recall.
Your song now hides behind time that is no time,
Muffled by whatever medium divides time
From endless day.

I saw your body, earthen cold,
Lashed to a table with plastic tubes. I saw
Your corpse—wet, adrift among willow roots
Where it fused with the weight of the earth
Which it became while your soul unsheathed.

Against the oak overlooking this river bend I stand
At the world’s rim. Wind stirs
Grass-crowded hills. A path leaves the waterside.
I will take it soon, later to return by the same way 
To this oak. My shoulder will rub smooth its bark.

It is yours to walk and mine to sing
In fog beneath the oak
Till I leave others here to follow you.

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Alexander Jackson
Poet & Carpenter

Alexander lives in Central Virginia where he used to teach and now works with his hands. For over a decade, he has been exchanging unpublished poems and short stories with friends to draw out the wonder that lies behind the visible world. He is currently working on a full length novel.

Photography by Toby Wong