(For My Brother Christopher, who slept in the Lord)
Where are you, brother?
Where did you go for such a long time?
You let the storm calm down
You let the sun set
You let the chickens roost
You let the choir stop
You let the rain cease
You let Bandjoun, your home from home sleep
You tricked me into boarding the plane
Then you staged your final act
And drew the curtains
You inside, we outside
Just like a joke
But it was real
Painfully real
Bitter pill to swallow.
