Seeing You
for my sister Kaley on her birthday
rationalize --
Love is truth.
Indifference blinds
like a sin. Even
in our close quarters
your closet crib,
I don't remember looking
in. Your baby days came and went
the usual number of
sweet years. The
days swaying on
the tire swing on the tree
in the side yard next
to the white and
yellow porch.
Scattered over two acres
the dandelions
we picked for
Mother's Day, paper
bags full. Scattered over
Dad's bent back, we
three kids on the golden
yellow carpet.
None of us is innocent.
Even a five-year-old bears
the taint of genes,
the tendency to ignore
or neglect. Your cheeks
and nose and mouth
(we shared some of these
in common);
mine are creased now
with tears and time
and sun.
I study your face now
in your sons. It is impossible
to achieve perfect
recollection; let that
be my pardon:
Each photograph, we're wearing
matching Holly Hobbie
matching Holly Hobbie
bathrobes at Christmas, each
church duet, cute and
funny story of our
sisterly connection,
puts pieces back in place
and will now not be forgotten.
But, when I
was five and you were none,
I forget. When I was teened
and peeved, you were
lightness and brightness and
ten and kind.
I was blind.
God and sisters
are not to be ignored, wait
to be seen. Now I look
to be seen. Now I look
at you both and remember
what friendship looks like.
*adapted from a poem by Luci Shaw, "Permanent I.D."