Remix PAD 27-3

 

Day 24, If you blank, added four sisters

 

If You Knew My Family

 

If you knew my family

of my childhood, you’d remember

my oldest sister, a leftie,

banned to the end of the kitchen table,

so she wouldn’t bump anyone.

 

You’d remember my second sister,

between dad and my third sister.

We had to speak carefully;

she was squeamish. I loved chicken skin,

but I couldn’t use those words.

 

You’d remember a little red-haired girl

making her way across

an ear of corn on the cob

and dinging at the end

like an old typewriter.

 

You’d remember me,

never heeding Mom’s warning

about tilting back my chair.

But I never fell and killed myself

like she thought I would.

 

You’d remember my little sister

crammed between mom and the leftie.

One time she put olives

on all of her fingers.

Funny things to remember.