Older Sister Younger

twins? no, but we were a pair
in sparkling tutus with straight brown hair
seven together, but just us two
out of all the mix had eyes of blue

you called me ‘pink’ and I kicked the bed
to disturb your rest where you lay over my head
you were never perfect and I loved to find a fight
but you told me fairy stories laying in our bunks at night

just a little older, and I followed closely in your wake
together we raised baby dolls and jumped into the lake
whenever your name was called to ring up in the rafters
I would jump to go as well, knowing mine would come right after

sometimes they would mix us up, though you were always taller
we were friends, the best of friends, big sister and one smaller

when I travel far from home, I take walks all alone
and my mind will skip and say “call her on the phone,
it’s been a while since you talked, and she would like this thought.”
because it’s listening to my heart and forgetting that you’re not

not doing things before me, so I can see the way
not off there with the others, as they work through the day
I cannot call you up upon the phone you never had
cannot share my mad with you, my sadness or my glad

big sister, I can’t quite comprehend how I got older than you are
or why when I look back to see you, I have to strain so far
you took a shortcut up to heaven before I quite understood
and now I’m taking a longer way and missing your sisterhood



View more posts from this author