Three boys, brothers 

by their gaze and gait;

the taller two steps 

ahead. The smaller 

messing with stuffed

pockets half runs 

to keep up.

Did we walk that way?

Me strutting ahead

embarrassed by your

childishness, playing

it cool, almost a man.

We walk together now,

measured pace.

Three men, brothers. 

©  Craig Muir 2019

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