FOR MY SISTER

Please don’t expect that I will talk about

The fullness of old age but of its loss.

It’s proved to be a time of prolonged drought,

Except when your infirmities crisscross

And maximize each other.? Then the pain? ??

Seeps down so far your energy is sapped,

The will immobilized so that your brain

Reminds you that you’re bodily entrapped.?

Despite my wish to step into your skin,

I watch you agonize while standing by.

Not even if I were a conjoined twin

Could I absorb enough to satisfy

My urge to intercede and set you free.

There are events you must endure alone:

To share them, you are not at liberty;

And death is one I call your very own.