Thursday, September 3, 2015

Sister





Sister


It was like touching birds’ eggs, robbing the nest
of the word…as kept and dry and secret

as her name, which they hardly ever spoke
but was a white bird trapped inside me
beating scared wings…
                                                Seamus Heaney
                                                Station Island

No, Rollie, not you too
           
                        You heard Mama

She didn’t mean it

                        Yeah, well, you weren’t there    

Of course I was I’m always

                        I know sorry—but is it nicer where you are?

I’ve been afraid to go anywhere

                        Why?

It’s cold sometimes

                        Not colder than here

A different cold       remember when I died?

                        Sometimes

When sometimes

                        When Mama gets quiet

So not a lot

                        No really more than that

When then

                        On bus rides

When else
                                               
                   When I was fighting Earland last Saturday             I could feel him

Feel him what

                        Go loose       like I am right not           remember going loose?

Yes

                        What was it like?

Quiet   Mama’s shouting got quiet
                                             
                   Not for long I think sometimes you were her only kid

I know what you mean

                        She’s gonna hate what I did

What was it again?

                        She said

Here’s my hand

                        She said  get out of here

She was mad

                        and don’t ever come back

People say things

                        Yeah well

It’s ok                                                            
                   Let’s go       Look   it’s Buddy.    He was told

Told what

                        Not to go in boats           see              he’s under the tarp

Take his hand

                        It’s not as heavy as it was

Hi Buddy

                        My sister

                                                You have a sister?

                        She died

                                                When?
           
                        A while ago

                                                How

                        Car hit her when she was getting off the bus

                                                Oh   You never said

                        No     We don’t say                   Mama doesn’t

                                                Where are we

                        This?           This place?

Come on          We can go now

                        Yeah

                                                Where

We’ll follow the others

                                                There are more

Yes

                        How many?
           
Twelve           

                        Twelve

                                    Twelve?

Almost more                some learned how to breathe again

                                    Twelve    But Junior    I have to go He said

                        It’s too late He’s not here

                                    Where is HERE?
              
Here
                       

Take my hand


1 comment:

  1. continuing the poems about the tragedy of Gardner's Lake

    ReplyDelete