A sevenling for my brother on his birthday

Three things call to mind a long-gone child:
A fibreglass cast, inked over; a freize of cartoon men, coloured brightly;
An old Kodak photograph, the greens fading away.

Three things he was to me:
A beloved baby brother; a cipher, in his speechless world;
An anchor to eternity in his sightless eyes.

His dying the wellspring of the numinous, the holt of every fear.

- Kathy, 16/6/15

(My brother Andy died almost 32 years ago, when he was 8 and I was 10).