Everything has a centre to which it falls
And I remember
In the ether when you had already landed here
With our parents,
I began falling.
Somewhere in the second year of your life you called my name
In a dream perhaps, or while playing in the yard with miniature men
Dressed up in war
You called my name and I was brought toward
You called my name like calling out the thunder
Or spring.
Our parents hushed voices
The air through the window
The creeking front door
The light on the ceiling.
And then…
Red wagons, tin can shoes, piles of leaves, construction site, ice through windows,
Running away, swing sets, hockey sticks, battle beasts, grass like fur, fur, birds, runaway hamsters, long hills to walk up, bullies who I destroyed for you in my mind, penny candy, attic spaces, ladders, rafts in water, water snakes, chasing dogs and skunks and light
And light
These years have spun so quickly
And all I can say truly is that
I am grounded because you
remembered me
From that place where we had no names.
I am sometimes off in a space with no hands to hold me.
I am often tripping over choices, and others, and my own breaking
And
I am always brought back
To the centre to which I fall
This gravity that holds me safer
This one who will always know me, and tell me, and remember
This comfort and grace, to be your sister.
