Do Unto Others, Daniel Johnson

[sneasel]

How many rocks would I stack
on my brother’s chest? A rock
for his beauty, a rock for his trust,

and two for lips redder
than a boy’s should be.
Granite for his love

of birds; a chunk of quartz
shot through with pink.
For singing on car trips,

hiding in the dryer, and flouncing
down Oak Street in my mother’s dress:
limestone, shale, sandstone, flint,

limestone, shale, sandstone, flint.