Chicago, January 2012
I am in Chicago,
Watching my sister grow thin
From a cancer she didn’t know she had last week.
Tasks absorb the tears-to-come--
I have much to do.
I scour shops for foods to tempt:
Ice cream and berries, avocados and white cheese.
I mop floors and sort cupboards.
We talk of the next meal,
the next pill,
the next nap.
We do not talk of the next year.
I pull on handknit socks, and stay,
Caring,
As my twin sister grows thin.
Watching my sister grow thin
From a cancer she didn’t know she had last week.
Tasks absorb the tears-to-come--
I have much to do.
I scour shops for foods to tempt:
Ice cream and berries, avocados and white cheese.
I mop floors and sort cupboards.
We talk of the next meal,
the next pill,
the next nap.
We do not talk of the next year.
I pull on handknit socks, and stay,
Caring,
As my twin sister grows thin.
3 Comments:
You weave words beautifully; a sad poem, and haunting.
Haunting, yes, but a window into a brave and steadfast, yet unassuming, heart. I love you.
you are living out the words of Emily Dickinson's poem right now. Bless you, dear one. Standing with you in prayer.
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