The Dream

It is a recurring dream. One of reality and one of what would have been; the dream of Joe living, never of him dying. It revisits my memory every day, a haunting ghost, just around the corner, just over my shoulder, just close to my tears. But as we draw close to his birthday and then on to the anniversary of his death I remember his smile, his incredible intelligence, his sarcastic sense of humor. But most of all his devotion to his brothers, his family and his friends.