When my mother sang us
her old Japanese songs,
the window shades were pulled
and sunlight tiptoed
past the bedroom door.
I peered through the frames
of my heavy eyelids
into my brother's round eyes,
and saw the world,
its fullness.
I slept
and had no need
for dreams.
Rest in peace, Bobby.
July 25, 1960 - October 19, 2011
