Two Sisters - La Guerre

Saasha Rose, you left your home

to ensure a surrogate.

Two sisters;

we began our search

in the last place you had been.

And in the month and a half it took to get you back

to the broken home you left,

we papered the lamp posts and darkened the windows

of each corner you kept.

And wept for the lack of empathy and every past regret.

The young babe and the early grave,

and that eager pound of flesh.

When old enough you left your post,

a troubled trail towards the West Coast

and bore a child, a heart as wild

as the one who fled before.

Now estranged, two sisters caged

in the MidWest, unforgave.

The last hurrah, the final straw

was the insist of the chase.

And in the month and a half it took to get you back,

I could never have envisioned

the void, the space, the empty place

it would fill or the weight it would lift up.

Since August of the last time our two shadows cast,

I have hoped you lose--

you lose your way so we can bring you back.