Must needs–my brother died just hours after we were born. Twins. All my days I’ve been his brother–his brother in the minute sweeps of gravity, with clouds in my fingers, clouds in my eyes. I know everything about my brother. The shadows of night behind my ears. And this morning, early, walking, I thought I saw my brother in the branches of the lonely trees.
Planet of the Blind 
I was wondering, after reading that you were a torn twin, whether you could feel the bond. You’ve left me with wonderful images.
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“I saw my brother in the branches of the lonely trees.” Sheer poetry, Steve. Achingly beautiful.
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“The shadow of night behind my ears…” Love it.
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