I wrote this poem several years ago, just before my sister Leslie died. Her death anniversary is in March, so I can’t enter this month without thinking of her.

She was eleven years my senior and carried me on her hip when I was little.

I miss her often and wish she were still around so we could go “on a quick walk” and have “a little talk.”

Here’s to love that never ends.

For Leslie

I see her lying in her hospital bed
Dark brown eyes half closed
Square jaw tight
Can she hear me?

I lean close
“Hello, Sister.”
Her pale lips shift
Into a half-smile

Her skin is smooth
Her body warm
Her legs toned
From constant walking

But I know this body
Is hiding the truth
That a brain once quick
Now has locked doors with no keys

I want her to open her eyes
To sit up and glide off that bed
Ready for a quick walk
Ready for a quick talk

And yet I know
She is going nowhere
Except away in the most real sense
Whether it’s today or tomorrow

I lean close
And say softly,
“What a good sister you’ve been,
And will always be.”

She stares off
Her eyes focused on her path
That takes her away from here
To a place that’s free

I kiss her cheek
Bid her farewell
Watch as she closes her eyes
And hope we’ll meet again