Alisa A. Laska and Amy L. Alley

by Amy Alley

Amy L. Alley
Sisters

Oil on canvas, 11 x 14 inches
Inspiration piece

Fiercely Loyal to the End
By  Alisa A. Laska
Response

My best friend

my worst enemy

my sister.

Two halves of one heart

sharing a spirit, a family, a bedroom.

She on the bunk beneath mine;

our beds a ship, floating us down the river of dreams.

Our castles were made of sand and our houses made of leaves.

We competed for the best grade, the highest swing.

As we brushed our Barbie’s hair,

I’d envy her slender body, and she my age.

Always the instigator,

she’d stir the pot while I tried to calm the waves.

She pulled my hair and I’d push her to the ground.

A little tattle, a little tale.

We’d see Mom’s red face

and look into the blue eyes that matched ours.

We’d turn tan by Grandma’s pool,

reading novels and splashing each other.

Playing softball with Dad in the evenings;

if we were lucky, we’d hit a home run over the top of our neighbor’s house.

Trying on Grandma’s prom gown,

we were the belle at the ball, the ladies in red.

We made for an off-key duet—

she with clarinet and I with the sax.

Through the years we grew in melody.

Barbie houses were replaced by movie posters and prom dates.

I left for college and she filled my bunk with an exchange student

[but she could never really replace me].

Growing closer every year,

the mystical bond drawing us in;

so close that we could read each other’s thoughts.

Holidays brought us together with the quirks of family and the smell of love.

Walking aisles with flowers and painting bedrooms;

building lives together, yet separate.

Our prayers uplift each other through hospital beds and broken dreams.

I reach for her over phone lines and words on a screen.

My best friend

my worst enemy

my sister.

.

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2 Comments

  1. Gloria Hardie
    Posted May 29, 2010 at 7:49 pm | #

    wow!
    I can see the truth in the writing and the inspiration to the art.
    I will be praying that even more creative juices flow!

  2. annmarie
    Posted June 2, 2010 at 2:33 am | #

    So many perfect little lines in this poem that so well interpret the lovely art.

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