It's Siblings Day and Becky, older by three years,
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| George Swain Pendergraft b. 2/10/1960 d. 2/25/1960 |
is seven hundred miles away, a little less perhaps.
And George, the baby of we three, who would be sixty-one
but never got to blow out candles on his birthday,
not a single one, is even farther, walking streets of gold.
We would have spoiled him, more than likely,
but a baby brother might have tempered
my own tendencies to take out teeth from Becky's doll
or play the nurse, giving shots to Barbies with the ball-topped
pins from Mama's sewing box. If babies grow in heaven,
if the elderly grow young, I picture him at twenty,
tall and strong, his red hair glowing in the city
with no need of any sun, walking with our mother,
father, and the almost-twin who is my son.
(c)Ellen Gillette
