Brother Poem by Boleslaw Lesmian

You would not take my hand. The dawn glow
Made the world alter.
At that moment your brother called to you.
For a second you faltered.

You ran to him and came back. He was dead.
Fate, for the clouds, shone golden.
'Now I belong only to you,' you said.
Your voice broke and rolled on.

Without a glance at you, I asked: 'Did he know?'
'Yes,' you replied.
Outside, giving thoughts distance, aslant, aflow,
The bird, as always, glided.