Brothers
by Michael Escoubas

This is how I think of us now,
each in our seventh decade–
travelers down a path,
that mirrors our past–
we’ve raised our families,
suffered our share along the way–
two travelers’ content to be
in nature’s familiar symphony–
her music made plain in soft
green grass, in the swags of pine
trees bordering the horizon–
air made fragrant by knowledge
that we are alive, our steps become
a definition growing certain that life
is good, that there are moments
of awakening in which we stop
to breathe, and for a moment,
the world is balanced, confusion
dissipates …. and we behold peace.