One Brother.

I have

one brother

and one sister.

And I really can't imagine it

any other way.

I have one of each.

How could I have

more than one

of each?

Lately,

I've been noticing something

more often than usual.

When I see a boy

out of the corner of my eye,

there is always

one split second

when I think,

"Oh, that's my brother."

It's the movement of a hand

when he's talking.

Or when he's sitting next to me

and leans forward.

I have one brother.

And growing up,

he was the one

whose hand I saw moving.

Who leaned forward.

In my life,

I learned about

what boys looked like,

what boys moved like,

what they thought like,

through my one brother.

And they will always hold

a little bit of him

in them.

See also

Brother