Theo

I am my
Brother’s
Theo though
He creates with
Sound not oils his
Canvas the ear not
The eyes and I am not
As supportive as Vincent’s
Brother though I do try to
Listen and understand
His vision which is not
My view of the world
Yet now he is gone
I do dream of our
Country car trip
In English Kent
Scotland and
West Europe
His laughter
When I said
The Euro
Should
Be a
D’Oro as
Things were
So expensive as
We raced down country
Roads each in our
Separate worlds
But for a brief
Time seeing
What the
Other
Saw
After a
Dozen times
Trying to get off
The turn around
At Tunbridge Wells.