Janetta Harrington | + Follow Poet |
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When I Think of You My Sister

when i think of you. 
i remember when mama
brought you home.  

i can still see her coming
up the sidewalk at 
grandmas' house
as if it were yesterday

i thought you were mine.  
i believe that is the first time
i felt pure crystal clear love
for another person in my life.

i remember when you were sick
and we lived on bear mountain
daddy put us in the car and....
mama held you upside down
and claimed later she did not
mean to

so you were wrapped up upsidedown
there i am crying like a banshee
and saying, is she going to die
and the parent people could' t
do anything to shut me up.

the memories are coming faster
of all the fascinations  and mysterious
things we were curious about 
during the lazy summers that
seemed to us never could end.

we laid on the grass and named
who the clouds looked like
we dressed our cats in clothing
that we made granny sew
for us, waded water where we 
should not  go and we looked 
at everything in this big 
wonderful world.

oh, and do you recall when i
read to you about the ransom
of red chief and you laughed 
so much.  i could make you
laugh so hard.

then.....there was that time at
the newspaper office.  you know,
the one time i disowned you
before the time i disowned  you
of being my sister...........the time
i took you to school for show
and tell.  and you ran off and didn't 
act right at all.  that was a deal
breaker.

i could talk you into anything. you would
ask me questions........like ......Jo
why is so and so and  i would proudly
tell you the answer because i was older
and so much more knowledgeable....
well, at least you believed that

remember...the sweet times when grandma 
said we had to  take a nap .....and we wouldn't
go unless she went and got a pretty little yellow
chicken in bed with us.

i love the memory of the dresses that granny
made us.  poor granny she would do 
anything we wanted.

i know that this is long, but the 
 times keep flooding back to me
and for me it is worth thinking
looking back at the snapshots
in my mind and knowing how 
happy we were

i recall how you continuously  
would lock the door to the upstairs
of that big scary house and i 
would cry.

i got you back with all the
paper dolls i talked you
into buying and you hated them......  to be continued....

Copyright © Janetta Harrington | Year Posted 2007

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