Thursday, April 15, 2010

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

A
ges ago we shared our lives, but now.....

S
adness tortures my soul when I think of you
I
mmersed in glamorous audacity, skin and ego
S
troked by countless people, but none who really love you. I see you
T
rample down fields of flowers in reckless pursuit of nothing that matters
E
ager to finger that golden horizon.
R
eaching, insatiable, for the jewel-encrusted platter

L
aden with unrestricted choices, you are
O
blivious to the pewter chalice you've knocked to the floor
S
pilling my love, unnoticed, under the
T
able of your life.

By Nicole Ducleroir 10/2008


A Sister Found


A
ging accusations became brittle with time

S
iphoning the last of my stubborn resolve
I
nto the abysmal void where what matters not is
S
ilenced, forever.
T
ime is touted as the healer of all pain, but
E
veryone knows it takes more.
R
eaching out from your fractured world, shaking the family tree, you

F
orced me forward, frightened, until the gap between us snapped shut and
O
rder returned to the universe in my heart.
U
nwritten chapters await our pen; across the first pristine page I write:
Never, ever again will I accept a day of my life
D
evoid 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