Sisters

My sister and I were almost Irish Twins. Eleven days after I turned one, she was born. We were raised like twins, though, for the first couple years of our lives. Mom dressed us in matching clothes, cut our hair in identical styles. But as we grew into our personalities, we learned how different we were. How different were the things we coveted in life.

We left the family nest on opposite roads, in search of our desires. For several years, we hardly spoke.

I wrote the first "Sister" poem during those angry, silent years.

Just before last Christmas, my sister cried out. For help. For her life. I answered. That week, I wrote the second "Sister" poem.

My sister is starting a new life. Clean. I'm so proud of her. She's (always) on my mind, and since I can't seem to concentrate on much else today, I'll share my "Sister" poems with you.

A Sister Lost

Ages ago we shared our lives, but now.....

Sadness tortures my soul when I think of you
Immersed in glamorous audacity, skin and ego
Stroked by countless people, but none who really love you. I see you
Trample down fields of flowers in reckless pursuit of nothing that matters
Eager to finger that golden horizon.
Reaching, insatiable, for the jewel-encrusted platter

Laden with unrestricted choices, you are
Oblivious to the pewter chalice you've knocked to the floor
Spilling my love, unnoticed, under the
Table of your life.

By Nicole Ducleroir 10/2008

A Sister Found


Aging accusations became brittle with time

Siphoning the last of my stubborn resolve
Into the abysmal void where what matters not is
Silenced, forever.
Time is touted as the healer of all pain, but
Everyone knows it takes more.
Reaching out from your fractured world, shaking the family tree, you

Forced me forward, frightened, until the gap between us snapped shut and
Order returned to the universe in my heart.
Unwritten chapters await our pen; across the first pristine page I write:
Never, ever again will I accept a day of my life
Devoid of your precious light.

By Nicole Ducleroir 12/2009

Author's Note: Due to width limitations of blogger post columns, some of the longer lines of these acrostics fell to the next line. Arg.

Artwork by Linda Wilder @artistwilder.deviantart.com