An entire playground!
Does it matter?
Naturally not —
they want the same ladder.
At the same moment.
Because better than play
is sibling foment.
An album opens
in my head —
other siblings,
some long dead.
‘Twas ever thus:
siblings meant to feud and fuss.
Then years go agley
to entropy:
family, home, brain and bone.
One crumpled sibling stands alone
in hospital starkness
sleepless darkness.
Why is one
the caregiver daughter or caregiver son?
