On Moving Out

On moving out

We are all still here together

The sound of my brother’s guitar still creeps into my room long after his 11pm curfew

Next year those fugitive notes will wind themselves furtively through other walls

This summer though, everyone’s shoes still sit on the shoe rack

The key hooks are full

We still buy sultana bran and jatz crackers and his brand of shaving cream when we go shopping

This summer feels like a full moon

Whole and round, like a cake nobody has cut into

Yet

It’s candles are flickering brightly

But I can hear the first chords of happy birthday

He will come back, of course.

But will he have grown while I’m not looking?

A tree falling in a forest full of people other people I don’t know

Schroedinger’s little brother

What will I no longer know about him

This bright creature, eagerly unfurling from his chrysalis while I still find myself wriggling, fuzzy and green

Curly headed rogue

I will send all of my nicest things with you

Pistachio cake and dandelion wishes and that warm staticky feeling when you get the harmony just right

Recount your adventures to me when you get home

Who knows? Maybe when you return I will have grown too

and we will show each other our new colours