Big Sister

by Marilyn Nelson

For L. F.

Daughter, this is my daughter, my dad said.
He put the new baby into my arms.
She was beautiful, as small as a doll,
a warm package with long black eyelashes
and tiny fists with teensy fingernails.
She’d suddenly appeared from wherever
babies come from, maybe from a stork’s egg?
And here she was, my own little sister,
for me to play with and tell stories to:
the baby sister I’d asked Jesus for.
I could hardly take my eyes off of her face.
My dad gave me a push. Go on, he said;
take her to your mother. My mother’s eyes
narrowed with rage I didn’t understand.

Poem copyright 2018 by Marilyn Nelson. All rights reserved.

See more poems from Marilyn debuted on The Fight & The Fiddle:
Almost Sisters” and “Kismet.”


Read more in this issue: Interview | Critical Essay | Writing Prompt

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s