PoetryAloud
Carl Sharpe Reads
The Sister Tree
you pulled me most of the way home
by the ear when I would not stay in line you were a safety patrol leader and had an arm band like the nazis wore and once you shut my fingers in the door when I would not let you close it but you played beethoven on the piano and you were beautiful and had more friends than I ever did and somewhere in the middle of your five children came coffees when we told each other secrets like children and laughed about sibling things when you died, we planted a tree in the yard and we watched it grow years without you and this winter the new owner trimmed it with strings of white christmas lights and as I drove by in the bark black night I tugged on my ear and wept |
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