Family Poetry posted February 6, 2024


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The only one of five left.

My oldest brother

by Willie P. Smith

 
 
I'm the product of my ancestors
But I don't resemble any.
My Grandma's were short and stout,
My Grandpa's were tall and skinny.
 
My Dad was small
But not so small as many.
My Mom was a solid ten,
Looks, she had plenty.
 
My four brothers were shorter than me,
When side by side we stood.
They had to look up to me,
That made me feel really good.
 
My wife was a perfect five-eleven,
A beautiful slice of Heaven.
My three daughters are five seven or so,
They grew so fast we could see them grow.
 
My dad stopped at five foot eight,
He was glad he wasn't smaller.
He thought I was just about right,
I am six inches taller.
 
My son took after his dad,
He grew up tall like me.
He missed the mark by an inch,
He is only six foot three.
 
I'm not as tall as I used to be
Due to surgeries I've had of late.
From all the parts removed from my body,
Shrinking seems to be my fate.
 
If I live much longer,
I fear,
A normal death won't be my end,
I'll just disappear.
 
The thing that's strange to me
But no stranger than the other.
Since I'm the only  sibling of five,
I'm now my oldest brother.
 
Willie P. 02/06/24

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