Brother Paul

The funeral was over and Shirley was gone.
I expected her to live a long life, everything was wrong.
The family went to her house for a meal.
I recall thinking how sad her husband must feel.
He was her husband and he had the greatest need.
She was my sister and she was special indeed.
I caught a glimpse of him in the kitchen door.
Paul had red eyes that said he wouldn't see her anymore.
Why they were discussing property, I didn't know.
Maybe,it was a way to pretend it wasn't so.
I watched as he slumped in his chair,
over and over he ran his fingers through his hair.
His red eyes were filled with tears,
He must have been thinking about the last six years.
In secret,he must have cried and cried.
His wife lost her legs, her hand only to die.
I fled to the living room, so I could cope.
There sat her beautiful girls, who gave me hope.
I told jokes and laughed; was that all right?
I must have been an awful sight.
Maybe,it was a way to pretend it wasn't so.
I just don't know.
Paul didn't laugh that day.
I guess that was okay.