You have not

You have not dimmed the beauty of the world,

you have not shut off the lights --

you have only removed the heart from things,

as with a careful knife.

The Runner.

She sleeps with one leg tucked up, the other extending pointed toes. Her body is flung forward over a knee, her hands fisted with the effort of rest. At 22, she takes sleep, like she takes waking, in stride.

For my young sister, on her 17th birthday

Although we do not know just how

we look alike, or how we're known

as sisters at a glance, my guess

is our just-matching happiness,

each in the other's company.

A brightness in our faces, eyes --

a gladdening that halos time

for us, that halos us in time:

a manifest felicity.

How could we not be family?

A blanket we shared

Misery was a blanket we shared -- though why

we huddled so long

underneath it, as if to stay warm

with this rough thing we had made together,

I do not know.

We have that cruelty of the young,

that impatience of youth

with age's creaking steps,

the carelessness which presumes

all will be forgiven,

all will be recovered ---

that swift, firm health

of body and mind that shakes off

the staying, shaking hand

and trembling voice that

whispers

we too will regret.

And also with you.

I pitied you --

your awkwardness,

your plainness,

your cat sweaters.

Middle aged, overweight, and single,

I judged you deserving

of the special censure of my sympathy.

I pitied that you came into the church alone,

Sunday after Sunday,

though so did I.

And when you sat down in the pew next to me,

I admit

that I disliked to be paired with you,

and pity

admixed with distain

was all I offered.

And that is why

when you

(listening to the voice at the altar) turned

and offered me in return

the sign of Christ’s peace,

I knew

that I had been right

to think we were not equals.

The Swimmer.

She sleeps with one arm flung over her head, like a swimmer mid-stroke. At 22, she doesn’t know where she is headed; she only knows she wants to get there fast, freestyle.