constructing poetry

my sister, Rachel

I walked with her that night,
hoping to avoid induction.
her first baby,
my first niece or nephew
two weeks overdue.

down hospital corridors
and back again,
we paced and talked
and speculated about
just who would come,
tomorrow—and she shared
her worry. what kind of mother
would she be?

tomorrow came, my niece
with it, I stayed with them,
keeping watch over baby sneezes
while her mother slept.

nine years. three sons later,
(one dead too quickly),
I marvel at her strength.
even losing her eye
didn’t turn her bitter.
that loss was nothing
when she thought of her lost boy.

music was always her gift—
she played piano at four,
and worked pit with her xylophone
in marching band.
now she shares that gift
with her children.

they study together,
mother and children,
every morning, singing
with childlike zeal
of history and geography
biology and physics—
even her youngest
reciting facts that she defines
as they learn to ask—
to understand.

I’ve seen her lose patience,
but remain calm—
so very unlike my little sister
when we were young—
talking them down,
pulling them short,
picking her battles.

her home isn’t tidy,
but is full of music and
laughing. and it is strange
to think that my little sister
has changed so that I
think of her as mother, first.
a mother I would
be proud to be.

line count: 55

Prompt: 7 May ▼

Theme: 'A really cool mom....' Write about one...just not YOURS. (That's tomorrow!) Nice happy poems people!
DO USE: a word beginning with every letter of the alphabet.

DO NOT USE: the

30 lines, no rhyming.

Alphabetical Word List ▼

avoid
baby
calm
dead
eye
facts
geography
history
induction
just
keeping
laughing
mother
niece
overdue
paced
quickly
reciting
sister
tomorrow
understand
very
walked
xylophone
young
zeal