Where Have We Diverged

He came into his brother’s cabin with his mind full,
top-heavy as
a ship with its crew
all in the rigging.
It wasn’t until late that night, after talk
of parents
of friends
of stories
that his own ideas started to cry out for release. He spoke slower then,
as if his words could be grenades
and his brother,
sensing war,
would begin to dig trenches.
They were different people, with different outlooks.
So his silences spoke
where his words might go.
His silences stumbled,
he felt them lame
and his brain ran away.
They talked together all night.