There was such a night:
After the festive family gathering,
Having bode their aged parents goodnight,
Dad, the big bro, said “We need to talk about money”
To his brothers.
Parked their cars along the road, stepped out to the side walk
In the chilly wind, they
Left their children on the cars
And spoke.
* * *
Discussion soon turned ugly argument
Loudly the men spoke
While the women looked on.
Each had his own concerns
And all failed to take a step back to put themselves
In each other’s shoes.
* * *
I tried not to speak
The chaos outside was drowning out my own Bro’s phone chatter, and the radio’s.
I listened but didn’t want to hear
Just hiding behind the latest edition of Economist
Squinting in the dark
I don’t want to know.
* * *
“You have no idea how tough my business is getting.”
“I have work so hard to put things in order in this family.”
“You called this accounting? Hah!”
“I am so tired.”
“And you expect me to pay you back – all ten grand – in one go – now?”
“Think I am in an easy position?”
“Don’t think that you are indispensable to us!” –
I guess that must hurt. A lot.
Cruel words as such
A brief silence.
* * *
And there was the radio
Soft and mellow in background, until
The clock struck
Wailing relatives lamented
Deadly accident cost six lives
Gone instantly on the road
With no chance for farewell – or any other words – at all.
“Money can’t bring my dear bro back,
“What’s the use giving me that?”
* * *
In the awkward air
No words exchanged between me
And my dear bro
Except that I wanted so much
To scream
I don’t want this to happen between us
Never
But is it something inevitable
When we grow old?
* * *
Phone rang
Out came the frisky voice of an 8-year-old.
Through the two panes of glass
I saw my cousins in their family car
Smiling and waving
Locked up in their own little quiet world
Sweet, innocent kids they are
Little brother and little sister
Seeing but not hearing
Their beloved aunts and uncles growl.
“Tell me what they are saying,
“We want so much to know!”
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