My Sister's Keeper

A Story Poem

 

Ice drawn ferns decorate each windowpane.

Sparkling albino fronds unfurling

to spread across the glass

in bas-relief.

Outside the night looms darkly

save for the half -lidded eye of a waning moon

straining to break through the midnight gloom

of a starless, cloud-swept sky.

 

Sleepless I lay in bed,

roaming restless eyes taking stock,

pale blue accents warming the honey-gold of my dresser,

ears listening to the steady ticking of my bedroom clock.

Beside it sits her picture.

 

Smoothing the patchwork bedspread made with her own hands,

artistically arranged with intricate pieces in blues and tans,

I admire her work of art; both functional and inviting.

 

I pull it over my bare shoulders ... a chill pervades this room.

Cool air moves softly across my left earlobe,

fleetingly, like a spectral kiss.

Outside a rising wind blows snow crystals

that strike the window like a hiss.

 

Distant sounds flirt for attention,

tantalizing ellipsis carried on the errant breeze

like a gentle tease, whispering a whisper.

 

...the thing about death (I think)

is it’s absolute finality …

Wide awake now I've given up on sleep

and begin to dress.

 

I slip on a heavy woollen shirt,

tartan green and grey

(like our eyes she'd say).

 

I used to watch her spread the cloth

across the dining room table

cutting out patterns with mother’s ancient pinking shears …

My worst fears have been realized  ... I am alone.

 

I slip on a pair of long johns, then my faded blue jeans,

weighing the enormity of my thought while

pulling on two layers of Kodiak work socks.

Then getting up I walk to the stairway ...

 

Halfway down I begin to sway,

my head swimming with grief.

I grab the wooden banister,

the dizziness is brief an I do my best

to collect myself.

 

“ … don’t put my love upon no shelf…”

 

Inexplicably an old one-hit- wonder enters my mind

and then my breaking heart unwinds,

pain squeezing my chest savagely

...but I don’t cry.

 

The fat lady sang her song and it’s over now,

so it's do or die…do or die ...do or die ...

 

Suddenly in my minds eye I see my second cousin Sharon.

She used to sing at the front in church.

Her roundly chubby, cherubic face wobbling earnestly,

and without warning I laugh out loud

in a miserable half-strangled shriek.

 

It bounces off the walls in ghostly echoes …

and as I listen I stand still and quiet

on that dark and empty landing

for a long, long time,

holding on to that banister with everything I’ve got.

 

Then I descend,

and grab my warmest winter jacket,

and slip on a pair of -40 below boots

and I'm reminded of when we both were kids

proudly wearing identical red snowsuits...

... while thinking I'm losing my mind... It just isn't fair.

 

I find a pair of heavy leather Skidoo gloves 

then pull on an old red toque over bed-tousled hair.

Stepping outside the cold assaults my senses

 ... it's everywhere, freezing my fingers, diving into my nose,

frosting tear sodden hairs embedded in there,

making it harder to breathe.

 

The crunch of my footsteps ricochet across

snow drifted fields. I'm in a world of white

blanketing yet another starless winter night,

another night alone in the cold.

 

I look up and blink at the old one-eyed crone.

She glares back at me from her lofty perch.

Rowan loved our lady moon ... in all her many phases …

Suddenly I remember a list of phrases 

we once read describing her winter personae :

 

“Inward, spiraling, seeing, knowing

counting, measuring, tallying, understanding

sorting, mending, discarding, treasuring

weaving, synthesizing, knitting, folding

laughing, wailing, keening, crying

tearing, scratching, burying, mourning

gathering, preparing, spiraling, visioning,

blending, accepting, knowing, being

healing, laughing, transforming, teaching, wisdom”

 

How I remember all of that right out of the blue

is a mystery, I haven't a clue!

But it’s relevancy to my current situation

is astounding ...

 

“I don't think I'm there yet”

I say aloud to the frigid air.

My voice sounds cracked,

naked and bare.

 

A solitary tear is falling... to solidify on my bottom eyelash 

...grief frozen in time. How poignant I think

but at the same time its a appalling.

 

Between clenched jaws I feel my teeth gnash,

suddenly the idea seems ludicrous .…obscene.

Abruptly I flick the offending crystal from my eye.

There is no right time or place for grief.

 

Grief roams my being in a restless, homeless fugue,

searching futilely for relief, shifting from one kind of hopelessness

to another while the stark horizon before me looms

...darkly.

 

It's a deep absorbing black that sucks you into eternity

while fear beats at your chest walls and you feel like running blindly,

wildly, to anywhere, but there is no "anywhere" to go so I stand alone

in the cold.

 

I try desperately to anchor myself back onto this planet I call home.

I try to think mundane thoughts like:

what shall I make for supper tomorrow or

should I take the jeep in for an oil change …

any kind of everyday normality that would somehow allow me to feel sane again ...

strangely I suddenly feel sleepy.

The cold is inviting and asks me to lay down,

to just rest for awhile...the thought makes me smile ...

oh to sleep again!

 

In the distance I hear a fox bark

then snap back into my cold reality.

With a shrugI I trudge back toward the house.

 

That night I had a dream ...

 

I heard my name being called from outside

... no I think to myself, this just can't be!

Was that not Rowan?

I grab a lantern and I'm on the fly and out I go 

in my bare feet!

The cold burns but I don't care I hear Rowan, she's out there

...calling me!

 

The cold is agonizing but cathartic,

I need the pain, it wipes out that dreadful ache of longing that

isolates the spirit from the soul

... the "not belonging".

Soon I can't feel the cold and I'm running,

As I run I'm calling ...calling out my sister's name

"Rowan! Rowan! "

 

...then miraculously she comes to me!

 

"Rowan … my heart, my soul ...my twin! 

I beseech thee ...take me!

Take me ...take me ...please!"

 

Rowan hovers above me  in the wintry black sky,

her skin marbled porcelain, glowing white.

She hangs suspended in the night, buoyed by silver wings 

shining bright; her eyes adoring.

 

My tears fall ... glittering diamonds bouncing off snow...

 

"Not now sister dear"

whispers Rowan, her breathy voice reaching my ears 

in puffs of frigid air, and as I listen I watch the darkness 

absorb her ebon hair while old lady moon is croning.

It reflects in streaks of midnight-blue a-gleaming,

and as I stand there totally entranced, 

I watch it streaming ...

"Rise sister ...rise !" she commands and

I feel a pair of gelid hands pulling me,

and I’m confused because I thought

I was already on my feet!

 

Then looking down I’m amazed 

to see me lying fast asleep,

then understand that I am dying,

and this is not a dream!

I am still dressed in my winter clothes

nestled deep within the drifting snow!

 

So I arise and look around me

only to realize I am alone again...

although not really!

For Rowan, my beloved twin, 

is a guardian angel who will

always be looking out for me!

Reviews

[Daisie Vergara (Dhaye)]

Nice one. Our loved ones who are not physically there will always be there to us as angels.

[felioness]

Thank you so much!

[felioness]

Thank you for reading my work! Your words inspire!

[Otsana]

Wow! You have got great talent at describing and creating imagery for the reader, it brings sooo much power into your poem, it really moved me. You should consider writing stories if you don't already, I can imagine you would be very good due to the sheer detail you put into your work.

These lines are my favourite

" A solitary tear falls... solidifying on my bottom
eyelash ...grief frozen in time"

That is absolutely beautiful imagery!

Great job!!

[p.kuhl]

Hmm, there is some incredible power in these lines. I think it must be broken into parts for us readers, otherwise it blends too much and feels too repetitive. I love the last bit. The two stanzas starting with a solitary tear hardening at the bottom of your lashes is my favorite moment. Beautiful. I recommend proofreading for consistency, as well as eliminating most of the ellipses (they are distracting, I want to think the speaker is confident in her words but ellipses muddle that sort of idea). Try to squeeze some of these stanzas into more concrete thoughts, try also using some sort of refrain in such a long poem so as to keep it singular. Thank you so much for sharing!

[felioness]

great review thanks for your insight most refreshing!