I like to take
photos of foursomes -
four trees leaning over a creek,
four rams hanging on a wall,
four tall Rainiers lined up on a bar,
waiting patiently for a brother to pour.
Anything in gatherings of four.
I have three brothers and we siblings (in our sixties) have roots that
tangle and reach deep. As saplings we schemed a lot together,
until we got caught - I’d scat when things got hot.
Always tight, we kept each other in sight.
I thought all sibs had the same strong
brotherhood or sisterhood
and got along like
we did, my
brothers and I,
but over time I learned
not all offspring grow together.
Branches spread out, trees split apart.
When I see it, it breaks my heart.
Of course, to expect all
striplings to get along
is a pipe dream.
So it seemed
to Oscar Wilde,
“The brotherhood of
man is not a mere poet's dream,
it is a depressing and humiliating reality.”
Mark Twain understood the mangling of families,
but felt they should still lean toward each other,
“You should never do anything wicked
and lay it on your brother,
when it is just as
convenient to
lay it on
some other boy.”
Then again, not all
brothers or sisters are siblings.
A close friend, or small community, can be better
kin than the family tree and photos hanging on your wall.
Stronger than blood and genes good friends can be.
I came to see four trees rooted together
don’t have to relate at all.