Over thirty years later
I still return to the night
when my brother and I
stood in the kitchen and argued
the merits of Grape Nuts,
versus Cap’n Crunch.
Potassium, potassium, potassium.
I still hear him chanting
the one nutrient his cereal
had more of than mine.
Breakfast was the least
of our differences,
but it taught us to laugh
as we disagreed
so that later, when the stakes
were higher—
presidential elections
and gun laws—
we could argue till I cried,
then snuggle on the couch.
Though we seldom agree,
though we will forever cancel each other’s votes,
though I will never eat Cap’n Crunch,
I’ll sit with him as he eats it,
laughing, shaking my head,
grateful he teaches me so much
about how I am not.
He will celebrate me and buy me
any damn cereal I want.
Though we disagree about almost everything
except how much we love each other—
we are two threads in a civilization
that would try to makes us believe
we couldn’t be one cloth—
but we are, woven tight, we are.
So much that is lovely in this poem <3
Thank you, Cait … it’s lucky to have a big love to help overcome what feel like differences impossible to reconcile.
Fantastic!
thanks, Drew! I do feel lucky to have a lot of love for people who have very different beliefs from me … it helps!
What a fabulous description of enduring sibling love with all its quirks and charms! Such a blessing for you both to love one another with deep awareness and acceptance of who you truly are. 😊❤️