His mother did not know he lay just below the kitchen window

He was just out of her view as she did the dirty dishes in the sink

She went about her chores not knowing what was laying below

That on the other side of the wall his blood was drying like ink

When I came in, she was there at the sink, just another day

We spoke briefly before I entered the bedroom and saw the box

It was sitting on the bed open, two shells gone as if on display

I stood there trying to think as my racing heart began to knock

Glancing at the corner where the shotgun had stood a day ago

I called to my mother and asked who had put the shells on the bed

She stopped and looked at me saying that she did not know

Have you seen Terry, I asked through the fear growing in my head

I didn’t wait for an answer as I went out the back door to the yard

Beneath the kitchen window lay his body, no question he was dead

I stood there staring, rational thoughts and movement were hard

I heard a noise from the stairs, my mother had come through the door

Stay in the house I yelled as I ran back up the stairs to where she stood

I quietly told her that he was gone as I tried to protect her from the gore

I called my father with the news and to please call the police if he could

My mother was still sitting in the kitchen as I went to get a blanket

Grabbing one I used at the beach I thought I hope he doesn’t mind the sand

I went back outside to where he lay wondering if he somehow would regret

Picking up that shotgun that was now laying on the ground next to his hand

Pulling the cover over him I squatted and said I hope that you’re at peace

My mind wasn’t rational as I studied his face with its one remaining eye

I felt his cold grey eye was concentrating on me, an image that would never cease

Half of his face looked almost normal with a partial smile that said good-bye

The other side was ragged and torn, relieved of anger and left slacked jawed

I pulled the blanket farther until my brother disappeared beneath its color

Whatever pain and torment gripped him, created an action that was flawed

I prayed that he’d found peace, but his torment will continue to affect another

I watched as they placed my brother in a bag and placed him on a gurney

My father and the police asked me questions, but I couldn’t remember a word

I was wondering to myself if his shattered spirit followed him on his journey

All my thoughts and images were tangled up, an abstract mess of things absurd

They had asked me if I had a hose and I remember thinking don’t wash it away

Somehow, we must preserve what is left behind of his talent and his intelligence

But I knew the fragments of bone and grey matter were really all that was on display

I remember thinking as they washed down the house that none of it made any sense

The macabre scene of strangers picking pieces from the house, dropping them in a bag

I watched the man with our garden hose spraying away what remained of him there

Thinking the weight of the tragedy itself might somehow make the house suddenly sag

My brother was just two years older than me but carried a sadness he couldn’t share

Our friendship was always up and down but for him happiness was always my wish

There were to many wild monkeys in his head and one day he decided they had to end

With raw emotion I watched the water flow and wondered why it suddenly smelled of fish

My mind exploded with millions of little diversions for change, but reality wouldn’t bend

But none of it matters now, the only thing that remains is a memory of his haunting face

I will bare an unnecessary guilt for all the things I think I should have done to help him

Someday his image will begin to fade, and his memory will find in me its proper place

And I’ll remember our pleasant times together and not the one of a brother left so grim