She's Old Afterall

I planned to post something different, but because it's my sisters birthday, I will delay the egomania.

She has always hated my poetry ("can't you write something happy?" she says) and would probably prefer a new pair of shoes.

Anyhoo, no shoes, but happy I hope, and Happy Birthday nonetheless:

Sister:

When I was little
I watched you
walking behind you:
how you moved,
how people looked at you.
I haunted your room
when you lived there
and more after
you left.

It’s not so simple, leaving.

I still can’t talk back to you
the way I want to
but I won’t take a dime
for a message now
or be conned into a backrub either.

My secrets,
for them you are insatiable.
But yours are all locked up
and nothing I do or say
will change it either way.

I am all grown up,
like you,
with no one to push around,
or tell on,
or teach.

There are myths
that people make up.
But mostly:
it just hurts sometimes
to be part of a family.

You taught me that.

It’s just a little bit
that a little sister
can say or do.
What you expect from me
and when the mood strikes
get from me --

A good song, a cheerful voice,
and the proof that we are all
okay.