FOR MY SISTER, GLORIA

Before the years grew us apart
Your name brought ice skates
Gliding over frozen ponds,
The banging of a wooden door
Followed by the clacking of your
Skate blades
On the rough plank floor.
And journeys made to grandma's house,
Down railroad tracks,
Past frog filled ponds
Where hobos built their fires,
And slept out on the ground,
And girl friends you brought
Home from school,
With pigtails that I pulled;
An old black trunk
Where you, with chalk in hand,
First tried to teach me numbers;
And playing with the only doll you ever had,
Whose sleepless eyes still fix on mine.

Before the years grew us apart,
Your name brought
Warm summer wind in long blond hair,
And Indian Paint Brush
Splashing prairie sage,
A one room school,
With friendships turned to legend.

Before the years grew us apart
Your name brought
cowboys riding broncos
At summer Sunday rodeos,
And Saturday-winter nights
On thirty miles of snow-blown roads
With Mama driving home from town.

In time dimension's farthest reach
Again I call your name,
Barefooted in our victory garden
Looking at tomato plants;
Watching uncles marching off to war,
Confronted by a picture of the Nazis
Killing children of the Jews
Who's names we thought we knew.

Then the years grew us apart,
But held me to you
With the memories of your name.