Sisters poem.

SISTERS

We pray in the morning on the telephone
and express or undying love.
By afternoon, we’re fussing and fuming
about insignificant stuff.

At noon, we make up and compromise
and talk about everything.
We’re looking forward to a trip together.
We’re deciding what clothes to bring.

We talk about her two daughters
and we talk about my two sons.
We reminisce about being young
and constantly on the run.

But we really love this older stage,
our husbands and an empty nest.
We laugh, fuss, cry and cuss
and express how we feel so blessed.

Janet Brice Parker 2004