It’s Complicated
My sister is going blind so she built a barn,
fenced her 11 acres and adopted two wild horses,
one white, the other spotted brown and cornsilk.
My sister is going blind, meanwhile she posts perfect
shots of her high-spirited steeds on social media
as they tromp and circle her land.
There are many typos and misspellings
in her ramblings. I struggle to understand
her but she doesn’t care one flake
of a red pepper if I approve. She is slowly going
blind. As far back as I remember
she’s done whatever she wanted and gives a snarly
‘go to hell’ if you don’t like it. In grade school
she pushed me in front of a slow-rolling Mercury
station wagon to see if I would disappear.
She used to slyly escape from her bedroom window
and slide into the bucket seat of some bad boy’s
Barracuda. Like crazed teenaged cheetahs they galloped
the main drag and guzzled stolen sangria.
Once she swiped 400 bucks from me. She disclaims it
but I stopped bitching about it last October.
Soon my sister will be blind. She might be able to discern
the blink-blink of Christmas lights or the stubbles
of a hay bale in the sun. She’ll recognize the white mare
by the pounding of its hooves on the trampled meadow,
the speckled mare by the velvety feel of her snout,
the high pitch of her mid-morning whinny.
13 thoughts on "It’s Complicated"
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by the handle I have on this, she’s already blind!
Metaphorically for sure and almost literally.
Love this title and the cadence of this story line. I ‘see’ her unfettered wildness.
Especially love:
(OMG)
In grade school
she pushed me in front of a slow-rolling Mercury
station wagon to see if I would disappear.
escape from her bedroom window
and slide into the bucket seat of some bad boy’s
Barracuda.
and
She’ll recognize the white mare
by the pounding of its hooves on the trampled meadow,
the speckled mare by the velvety feel of her snout,
the high pitch of her mid-morning whinny.
love the language in this—wreckless, wild—dramatic
the empathy conveyed for this bad-girl sister is exquisite
Love the title, the subject and the line breaks are perfect. Wonderful poem that reflects your brilliance in writing!
The repetition really works in this poem, Linda. It’s almost as if you are having to reconvince yourself of the obvious – and how very natural that is!
Love the vivid exactness of this, the concrete details of a complicated relationship. I love your declarative, cyclical, yet curious weariness here.
In grade school
she pushed me in front of a slow-rolling Mercury
station wagon to see if I would disappear.
Damn.
The repetition feels like the speaker’s self-talk/attempt to understand (maybe forgive) this challenging sister.
That’s it exactly!
I like the repeated line, which makes this feel like a quasi-villanelle. The details of the horses are wonderful, as is that Barracuda.
I like the title, the repeated line, and the ending. It is complicated.
Oh my! This poem tells its story very well. I love the repeated lines, the poignancy of the sibling story, and the final lines.