April 27

Dear Sis


How is it that though

You’re 13 months younger than me

You seem to know

So much more, you’re worldly and savvy

Street smart, wise

Oh the life in those eyes.

It was I who jumped in to your bed

When it was thunder storming

And me you comforted

While visiting people in mourning.

I don’t think twice when

Something’s amiss

To seek your advice

I value dear sis.

According to the order of our birth

I should be the sage

But that concept has no worth

Wisdom has nothing to do with age.

I worry that your knowledge

Comes from life experiences hard fought

You didn’t learn all this in college

But the lessons hard blows of life taught.

I’m grateful for your comfort

And always sound direction

I consider you an expert

And wish I could offer you protection.

I love you little sis

And thank you for the shoulder

Though something feels amiss

Like you should be the older.


(An Epistle Poem)

April 7

Julie’s Hands


Staring at dots some call age spots thinking a lot of passing time.

These I did heed, watching her read, thinking that she’d had hands sublime.

Showing wisdom that overcomes trials becomes a long lifetime.

Today I see hands before me and note with glee these spots of mine.


(A Rhupunt Poem)