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Wednesday, July 17, 2013


As the sun rose last Sunday
We sisters gathered near.
We prayerfully huddled in a small circle
With arms entwined around each other.
The hard work of deciding
What goes to our homes,
To our children or to the trash began.
Boxes were packed and loaded in the cars.
Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday
were the same dance repeated
minus the eldest sister.
In a land that was parched
from lack of food rains,
the heavens opened each day
With cloudbursts, lightening
and thunderstorms.
While the earth stands refreshed
we sisters find our souls parched.
The reading of letters from
the childhoods of our lives
left our emotions weathered.
Windswept, bare, raw.
A card from
Daddy telling Momma
of his deep love was on top of
a xeroxed joke.
Almost as if in the clouds
and storms our Daddy,
Grandma Chandler et al
were saying in a joyous
chorus,  "laugh and celebrate
these lives you have been given. 
And the lives of us who have passed " 
Thursday will find only two sisters
dancing with the last few items.
Treasures and trash to be unearthed
from one last file cabinet.
May the dance be joy-filled!
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