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Brian Lowry
His days stand before him,
unclouded by questions of time.
Their limits, though centripetal,
do not constrict. He does not kick
against bone. His skin, dust blown
by malignant winds,
never escapes sight of its captain.
His darkening frees him,
for within its circle,
old margins are dispersed.
Fears fade into a boundless music
of the spheres, his orbed tears
blotted by grace. He becomes light,
as in a dance, stepping in the perfect rhythm
he once labored helplessly to find.
All his stirrings settle into earth.
He comes down to that place
which does not recognize divisions,
awaiting the quickening turn.
*”For My Brother” was the winner of the 2007 Ruminate Poetry Prize.
Brian Lowry writes from the southern Indiana farm he shares with his wife and young daughter. His creative work has appeared in Farming Magazine: People, Land, and Community; New Southerner; The Quill; in HGTV’s book, Flower Gardening; on WFPL radio’s HomeGrown; and in several newspapers. He serves as a middle school counselor and English teacher.
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