Wednesday, August 26, 2009

A Poem

My sister Easton, has always been an amazing poet (at least per a style I like). In harassing her to give me one for this blog she said I could pick one.

I like this perspective on my chaotic winter home-life. My sis lived with me while biding time between the Army and grad-school and her German girl, Ramona was also staying with me. I'm normally very protective of "my space" but this winter circumstances were such that I bent a bit.

Her poem:



My sister’s bed

It’s the hottest in the house
After 36 hours
dead teenagers
and confused families
she ousts the strays (myself, house-guests)
declares
we are like a family
of migrant workers
sleeping in shifts
our imprints cradle each other’s
exhausted dreams

The furnace breathes heaviest there
stains are chocolate—my nephew’s
chaos body heat
Elmo
counting books
clean laundry
dirty socks
and me cradling the cat
hot water bottle
fleece cap
3a.m. Demons
and the restless guilt of too much
sleep.


by Easton Branam

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