If your brother becomes destitute and sells some of his inherited property . . .
When I was growing up
I barely owned a stapler.
When I was growing up
I blessed the refrigerator if
it had anything in it.
When I was growing up
we rented our land from
people whose names
we did not know.
When I was growing up
we would take breaks
from paying the unknown
and then put our possessions
in boxes and move to new land.
When I was growing up
a lost nickel or an ice cream cone
fallen to the ground, felt like
destitution.
When I was growing up
crossing an ocean or even
a state line seemed like something
only kings got to do.
When I was growing up
someone cutting in line in front of me
felt like theft.
When I was growing up
I walked and walked because
there was no other way
to get there.
When I was growing up
I eventually got there.
I eventually found all my
missing dimes.
I eventually crossed borders
and continental divides.
I eventually bought ice cream
whenever I wanted.
When I was all grown up
I made every effort to remember
whose hands pulled me this far
and what it was like
before I got here.