 |
| Ceren Büşra SEVTEKİN |
Carol and Big Herbie
My sister, Carol, died early last year,
bedridden for a long time,
suffering from dementia, diabetes,
and various other ailments,
a shadowy presence.
I search my memory,
discover a brighter scenario.
My family is on vacation
on a farm in upstate New York.
I’m about nine, Carol five.
The German American owners’ teenage son, Herbie,
tan, slender, dark strands of hair
falling over his forehead,
is going to feed the chickens and collect eggs.
Carol and a few other little kids
are chasing after him,
a country Pied Piper.
“Big Herbie!” Carol shrieks,
amidst a chorus of “Big Herbies.”
She’s giggling, her face radiant,
chubby little legs churning,
as she reaches out to touch him,
clutch him like a favorite toy.
There’s a patient, amused smile
etched on Herbie’s handsome features,
as if Carol’s greedy hands
are just a gentle breeze
on a warm summer day.
But what I most remember
is the happiness pervading Carol’s whole being.
Enjoy more poems by Ralph Dranow HERE.
 |
| Ralph Dranow |
Ralph Dranow works as an editor, poetry teacher, and oral historian. His most recent books are At Work
No comments:
Post a Comment
Please be supportive and kind in your comments.