Childhood Connection

A poem by Naomi Nye, found while looking through my child's Baby Book:
        "Supple Cord"
   My brother, in his small white bed,
   held one end.
   I tugged the other
   to signal I was still awake.
  We could have spoken,
  could have sung
  to one another.
  We were in the same room
   for five years,
   but the soft cord
   with its little frayed ends
   connected us
   in the dark,
   gave comfort
   even if we  had been bickering
  all day.
  When he fell asleep first
  and his end of the cord
 dropped to the floor,
I missed him terribly,
though I could hear his even breath
and we had such long and separate lives
ahead.