in early morning hours of august third
i stand in darkness, swaying, babe in arms
and see her hands, her face — i can’t find words.
she lifts, gently, confident, my heart warms.
the tears come freely, then and now, i blink
them away, strain to see her tender brow.
she holds him, exclaims in loving whispers
his newness, his perfection. i don’t think
i’ve seen more clearly than that night just how
much love exists between us, two sisters.