A POEM FOR PETE

Tonight, I wrote this poem for Pete, my youngest brother who died. I was missing him so writing is a great way to release feelings, a form of prayer. Below the poem is a pic of Pete, age 8, with me, age 14.

A POEM FOR PETE (Richard Rossi 7/7/19)
Last Tuesday at Ten p.m. my son sang a song he wrote about you, his uncle, my baby brother.
"Close your eyes....I will be there..." he sang in the Federal bar, a brick bank building in NoHo.
Since then, I've seen you, even when my eyes are open. I looked at my hands tonight, and I remembered your long dirty fingernails when you played in the dirt with me, kids digging for China because we saw Bugs Bunny do it on the Saturday morning cartoon show.
Then I remembered your lightning-fast fingers flowing over a Fender fretboard.
My son's song rings true that you will never die. You are free since you deposited your body in the earth, in the place of your birth.
You're released from relationship squabbles, aging, romantic or sexual issues, addiction. You don't need weed, or alcohol, or someone to text or talk to late at night because you believe lies about yourself or God. You are free from aging, cancer, from arthritis or Parkinson's slowing down your lightning fingers like it did for Dad.
When you were born, you cried as we smiled. Now we weep missing you, but you smile because you are free.