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My older brother was shot to death in a bar when I was 14 years old. Later that year I had a dream that we were passing on a staircase. In my hands I held a heavy, oval shaped obelisk. I felt so weary, I longed to drop it.

"Brother your fear and your pain are such a heavy weight; why do you keep intact something that you should shatter with your own hands?"

I said: "Remember when I got lost when me and you and daddy were hunting? I called and called and called for you, but even then my voice was soft and distant. You found me in a patch of ferns, holes in my shirt from wandering through the briars and coughing up blood. You led me home through the forest at night.

Brother, lead me home Brother lead me home

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Zack Kouns Ironton, Ohio

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