Brothers Playing Catch On Christmas Day

Gary Short

Only a little light remains.

The new football feels heavy

and our throws are awkward

like the conversation of brothers

who see each other occasionally.

After a few exchanges,

confidence grows,

the passing and catching

feels natural and good.

Gradually, we move farther apart,

out in the field,

the space between us

filling with darkness.

He leads me,

lofting perfect spirals

into the night. My eyes

find the clean white laces of the ball.

I let fly a deep pass

to his silhouette.

The return throw

cannot be seen,

yet the ball

falls into my hands, as if

we have established a code

that only brothers know.