I am here without promises.
My brother lost in the city
without his shoes. I cannot bear
to watch the light fall
from such great heights.
When we were safe, when we
were children, my brother's face
reminded me of sapling skin; now,
like tempered metal, cold, hard
and faithless. I'm not afraid to die;
I fear to be its witness.
One can only hope the start
of winter spares the trees.