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When she smiles,
You forget all about the lazy blue eye
That seems to search for something the rest of us
Never notice.
When she laughs,
You don’t see the postmenopausal whiskers
On her chin.
Her awkward gait is fine
As she strides to the front walk
Where she spreads food
For homeless cats.
She likes books with pictures –
Shirley Temple, Johnny Cash, Princess Di.
Words are difficult.

Her older sister orders for her at the pancake house.
Later, they stand together
In the edge of the surf
Remembering the same beach, years ago,
When Mom and Dad took them there to play,
Long before worries of work or elusive pin numbers
Or rent or keeping an old car running
Overtook their lives.

The older sister’s square shoulders carry them.
The sister with the lazy eye has sloping shoulders.
She pays her way with smiles
And laughter.

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