On Losing My Brother Poem by Robert Melliard

With past lovers, lost but not forgotten,
a figure, face or gesture
reminds us poignantly at times
of their missed beauty, warmth
or power to give us pleasure.

Now you, my only brother, may be seen
in shops or pubs or streets
in people who each represent a part of you,
your soft, grey hair,
loose-jointed walk or bright, sad stare.

But even if these various traits,
seen at different times, in different places,
could all be drawn together,
they wouldn't bring you back again,
and when I see them, I miss you more than ever.