Yes, go ahead and hold his hand,
the nurses look but will not mind.
And talk, just as you did back then
when you were boys and did not know
that some would call you mischievous
he may not show you that he hears,
but then, you must be used to this.
Remember when you fought about
that silly toy out in the yard, and he
considered it appropriate to pout,
not you, you were the preaching kind,
you needed to resolve all ills
before the sun would set, it was
as you much later realised, a sense
of utter harmony, essential it has been
for you, since those romantic days.
He will be fine, my friend, just sit
and be the brother you were meant
in God's exotic universe to be.
To hell with all the urgent vital crap
just hold his hand and let him take his nap.
Herbert Nehrlich
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/for-poetry-hound/
