Ruminations

My sister is born

Birth Day

The day of my sister’s birth
I was trapped by the miserable midwife
In my bedroom. I cried.

My Dad rescued me when he heard
And lifted me out through the window
On to the pavement. I laughed.

My hand in his we went shopping,
I was wearing my slippers
Avoiding the puddles. He smiled

We paced up the High Street to Woolworths.
On tip toes, I could just see the toys.
He counted his coins. I waited.

He bought a figure of eight race track
Of metal, two cars, one yellow, one red.
A key wound it up. I danced.

Home now the fuss is all over,
My sister is very important
I play on my own. I tremble.


Birthday

Years pass slowly and
Childhood happiness
Skips across a smooth
Sea of calm

Yet beneath the mirrored
Surface, resentment builds
Until I can contain it
No more.

Dawn is reluctant
On this, my sister’s birthday
I watch light banish dark
From the sky.

But my heart stays black
As the depths of winter night
As I move, calm, unhurried
To her room.

I stand above her body
Scarlet chain begems her neck
In one hand I hold
The gleaming knife.

In the other hand I cradle
A pair of metal cars
Tiny, rusted, red and yellow.
My heart sings.


Sallyj