He pushes me to greater things and
He pushes me into the ground. He
Stands over me, protecting, but scares
Me. He regards me with contemptuous
Hate, though his eyes are as blue as
Mine. Bitterness and resentment take
Root in the shallow parched ground of
His soul. His spirit is as strong as
Mine... as stubborn, as willful. He
Challenges my every thought, questions
My every decision, daring in his anger.
Though, he can be generous, gentle, and kind,
We waged war against each other for
Many long tired years. Now we stand
Breathless: no more blood and no more
Tears. Sometimes the past fades like
Morning mist in the pale cold
Light of an uncertain future. He could
Be my darker self--- my conscience or
My creator; but he is not.
He is my brother.
1990
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