DEAR SISTER
Rose Maria Woodson
Do not marry
a man who worships the narrow god.
There is no ice cream in his soul.
No strawberries in his heart.
He cannot swim
in the sea of ampersand.
At night, when you turn
to the wall, seeking
the asylum of dreams,
he will chisel either or
into your spine &
one day
there will be no sweet
bay mare grazing,
there will be no sleeping
tabby on the window sill,
there will be no great
friends who whim in all
because you leapt from the cliff of changing
him, of bringing the gift of light into
his skinny dark orbit.
You will find yourself shattered,
scattered in small holes of silence,
a hungry mouse of a woman
discovering too late
there was never a wraparound
porch inside of him as
you thread your heavy
days through the eye of a needle.
Author’s Commentary: I was inspired to write "Dear Sister" while watching a discussion on a political talk show. It was during the aftermath of a flood, and a member of the panel stated emphatically that he wouldn't rescue cats or dogs. It wasn't just what he said but the way he said it, giving the impression that even if he had room, he'd leave the pets behind. And I thought, this man worships a narrow god.
Rose Maria Woodson holds an MA in Creative Writing from Northwestern University and an MA in Community Development from North Park University. Her poems have been published in numerous journals including Clarion, Gravel, Wicked Alice, OVS Magazine, Magnolia: A Journal of Women’s Socially Engaged Literature, Volume II, Jet Fuel Review, Stirring, Scape Goat Review and Mojave River Review.
