Sibling Rivalries

One is slain in hand-to-hand 
combat; one crushes the other's 
skull with a rock only as large 
and glittery as his pain. Then 
there's the one who tricks
the nearly blind patriarch 
into handing over something 
called a birthright—all for a bit 
of stew, a coat of fur, some proof
that they, in their one-eyed misery,
believe equates to love. And in those 
dark tales we like to think of as part 
of a happy childhood, stepsisters 
tear the clothes off the youngest
daughter, push a broom and pail 
into her hands. Haven't you wept
alone in the garden under a tree
whose wind-burnished voice 
reminds you of the one who never 
stopped caring? Hiding in the leaves, 
all day the birds call and answer, answer
and call. Though each has their own 
song, they resemble one another. 

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.