That's my little brother at fourteen
beside a hemlock tree
in suit and tie
holding his french horn to his lips
he's playing
is it Mozart?
for our mother
who's so close she seems
to need to lean away
he's looking straight at her
and she at him
her hands clasped primly at her waist
a pose or gesture
that she's performed since childhood
hair cut short
her face seems boyish and impossibly
young for her fifty years
her smile says everything