Sixty  years ago today, my oldest brother–

Roger, left this world for another

He and eight others, in a fiery crash

Died as the plane exploded in a flash

I was five..,just barely alive

Waiting and wondering why my Mother cried

All somber and sad, the small box was placed before the pews

Draped in black, in front of the commuion rail, my only view

My brother– who the winter before–

Carried the Christmas tree through the door

I had waited for him snug in his bed

He would not come home again, for he was dead

Still I recall the chalkboard and colored chalk

He carried me down the stairs to see in his gentle walk

He no longer would sit me upon his knee

And light the cigarette and give me a puff, would he?

He joined the Air Force at seventeen

To be free and fly …his only dream

Now he wanders the sky above

Living with the God of Love