SIBILANT SIBLING by Angela O’Connor
Wish wish upon a star; shouldn’t have reckoned
On celestial deliverance this far. She’s here now shaking
My world with her sisterly sounds. Baby’s screeching
And screaming, then seven’s shouting and screaming,
Then seventeen’s sullen silence –no screaming.
She slowly saunters into rooms, the venomous gaze
Sizing and despising those surrounding her. Together with
Today’s friends, muffled whispers conspire like busy bees.
Yet she serves no pollination potential, instead her substance
Needs wastes her once strident soul.
All that is left is the scraping
Sound of the empty mixing bowl.