Dear Sister

How many poetic ways can you say, It’s raining.

It‘s raining. And windy. And sun-dried laundry. And stir-fry. And Soba noodles.

...

It’s fiction. It’s also a little piece of me. I’m the sister who always flies. I’m the one with the ache to run free, to be unrooted.

Dear sister, 

Yesterday I picked a bouquet of sunflowers,

Long gorgeous yellow ladies;

Snipped the green stems and set them into

A blue vase. 

Remember,

That blue vase we fought over when we were little,

A deep lustrous blue shade;

I put the sunflowers in there and thought of

That long ago summer day. 

Dear sister,

I can recall that summer day so well,

It sticks out between sweet tea and ocean trips;

You handed me some seeds

And told me to think of you when they bloomed.

Even then,

You knew you would fly away,

Migrating to the land of pine and frost;

You never could stay in one permanent place

Rooted like the seeds you gave. 

Dear sister,

With every yellow lady I snip,

I see your freckled face and laughing eyes;

Lustrous blue as the vase I set

The memories in. 

Lp 2020

Stay happy and bright.