For today’s prompt, write a follow poem. In middle school, I remember running for student council and my campaign manager said something to the effect of, “Vote for Robby, because he’s a follower, not a leader.” First thing, yes, they called me Robby in middle school. Second thing, yes, I did not get elected. Third thing, yes, this story is completely personal and pointless. Don’t follow my example.
Sister
l see now that how I feel
and have felt
and maybe will forever feel
is so deep
that I can never, beyond reflex, even know.
I look out my little balcony
on the first day of my solo journey
in the middle of my life
- it has taken me this long
to look at a compass and point in one of
its other directions and call it mine.
Two children play as their parents sit with others
and their cold coffee and the little boy prances
after his sister
wherever she goes
he goes
prancing
and she leaps up onto a cement block
and though he can't
it is clear he would if he could
and then she dances off and is gone
and
he
has no direction
no sense of what to do
what to leap on
why
he is four
three maybe
he turns
and just in time she dances in
and he
again
prances after
It is like this.
It is not a fault
or a weakness.
The girl curtsies before a tree.
The little boy bows before a tree.
Then that is done.
Without her, nothing happens next.
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