Missing My Sister
It’s like calling your friend’s new phone number
after she moved out of state, only to hear
“This number is no longer in service.”
It’s like caring for your tender geranium, the only one
with those unusual wine-red, velvety blooms;
you are too late–one cool fall night does it in.
It’s like trying to start your beloved, but stalled companion
of a car, first using jumper cables, then a push in neutral,
but nothing can get it going again.
It’s like pulling up your winter pants,
so loose-fitting they almost slide off your hips;
last year you lost–not knowing how–pound after pound.
Brigitte Goetze lives in Western Oregon. A retired biologist and goat farmer, she now divides her time between writing and fiber work. Her web address is: brigittegoetzewriter.com.
