Light in the Mourning

Baby brother, you are missed.
Words can't even.
I want to take a vacation from Now,
visit you in the High Country,
tour your world.

I know, I know.
"It's okay, Shoshie," you say,
and lay a hand on my shoulder.

When two countries are at war,
as yours and mine are,
the gates are closed to outsiders
(but for the rare few).

So I am here
and you are there.

One day though,
I'll be drafted,
my name will be called.

For now,
I'll send you postcard prayers
and keep the home fires burning.