Sisters (a poem for World Poetry Day)

Sisters, sisters with secrets in their eyes.
Sisters with hands sewn together,
sitting on a branch 3 years ago
and blindfolding their heads another 2.

They come from a hollow
with dirty feet and scratched arms.
The mist of spring mornings,
caught like marbles in their hair.

2 bodies, under a bed, sheltering from the night.
1 body under a desk hiding herself from the light.

Frost light stories on the lips of children
never really tell anything worthwhile.
Letters that stumble, stop and start are only ever lies.
And scared words turn to red in someone else’s head.

Sisters, one in black the other in white,
drawing on their bedroom floor,
blinking and screaming through the fireworks smoky haze,
holding one another’s hand in their minds, ‘til the end of days.

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