Sunday, December 14, 2014


We must know the truth, and we must love the truth we know. Thomas Merton

On her way to the big dance
my sister patiently waits
for the camera to click.

Her dress is white,
her slender fingers wrapped in
tight, petite gloves,
while top to bottom,
in her brilliant hat and polished shoes
grasping the patent handbag
she glows, so cool
in the autumn sun.

Carefully posed,
her little brothers cluster.

The oldest, just fooling around,
grins slyly
waves his
Lone Ranger cap gun.

The smart boy,
just down the step,
holds his hands in his jacket pocket,
and confidently smiles
for the camera.

But the little one stands apart
in a forest of shifting knees,
close to the ground
steadied by her strong hand.

Mother's long arm
reaches far down
to his slight shoulder,
and her power
still towers above them all
wrapping them in her
safe embrace.

(22 May 2012)

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