Experience Poem by James L. A. Huetson

My mother gave me no brother
And my father no brother conceived.
Neither was I given a sister
And did not need either I believed.

My parents made every effort
To insure that I shared all I had.
I was trained to always give comfort.
Any form of rudeness was bad.

My uncle’s first marriage ended
After his son, Duane, had been born.
His life taken when he was blasted
Away and to an unmarked grave was borne.

His mother took Duane,
Changed his middle and last name,
Then disappeared to a place arcane.
She deemed my family to be all the same.

Thirty-seven years later he was found
Using a Salvation Army quest.
At our first meeting we were bound
Together for a brotherhood blest.

A joy came with him into my life.
The similarities were amazing.
He brought with him a lovely wife.
His first love a lady most dazzling.

His first love’s name was Joan.
A Joan was also my first devotion.
He taught music, he was a musician.
Electronics for fun was his notion.

My work was with electronics.
My hobbies were playing the guitar,
Singing, and working on the basics.
My style was O.K. but I’d never be a star

We both enjoyed the pun
And shared many with no stigma.
We traveled just for fun
From Dallas Texas to Canada.
In 2004 heart-rending news,
Duane’s cancer, once defeated,
Re-ignited, his body to suffuse.
I went to his side feeling cheated.

For years, like brothers we did abide.
Approaching the end I still teased,
I held his hand and with him cried.
But his pain would not be appeased.

There is no avoiding the experiences
That we came to experience
Including the experience
Of avoiding what we came to experience.