On those days when my brain sticks
Like a rusty hinge
I watch
And he tells me what I should feel
How I should react
And I know he’s right
In the backs of my eyes
He always knows how to react
When his hands wring the back of the chair
And he stares at his feet
I know I’m lucky
Even when I’m not
"The highlight of my childhood
was making my brother laugh so hard
that food came out his nose."
-Garrison Keillor
I'm not sure if your poem is sad or trusting or...
just sort of ambiguous.
oh Garrison Keillor.