216–Hand Biting

my brother doesn’t know how to
live in harmony with his wives or
his parents or his children he is
wounded to the core of his being
but his grief lashes out instead
of wailing probably because
no one heard him when he cried
how to reach out to him on this
his birthday when he wounds
every hand that reaches toward him
is a mystery to me so i sit here
late at night writing poetry
and keep my hand from being
bitten until i find a way
to raise the white flag
without losing any fingers
this is such a deep grief to me

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