Too Young

Today, I read the entirity of poet Ted Kooser’s Splittng the Bill.

“Readers [of Splitting an Order] will find ‘characters’ both strange and wonderful, animal or human. There is a sense that time is passing quickly and that everything worthy must be captured and savored, from an old couple lovingly sharing a sandwich to another sowing seed potatoes to a tribute to an old dog who waits as age and winter approach… Master of the single-metaphor poem, Kooser offers images that evolve, fluid and unforced.”—Library Journal, starred review

Kooser’s words inspired me to write about the past.

By the way, I encourage you to read Kooser. Awesome stuff.

——————————

Sister

for Amy

Today, I hear
your laughter,
the girl
you were, giggling.
Your voice rises

from the past,
a maple’s sugar
rising from its core,
slow and sweet.
Do you remember

wading the pond’s
shallow, snatching
blueberries
from the bushes
rooted to the shore?

The cold water
bit our feet
and the stones scratched,
sharp like teeth,
like this moment,

discovering even then
our chilhood
was easing away.
We were
too young to notice.

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