Walking the beach
three of us
side by side,
linked by blood
and the shadow of him.
We are siblings,
all middle aged
and peers now
but the birth order
persists
Eldest, middle and the baby.
But one is missing.
His presence is felt
in the uneven number.
Three where once were four.
We talk of him,
our big brother,
remembering,
loving, laughing,
hurting.
He is with us
in our hearts,
Our minds,
Our souls.
In our DNA,
in our blood.
Never forgotten,
the love remains
but we ache for the hugs,
the laughter now stilled,
the voice that is silent.
We are three that once were four.
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