I write Watching my sister die
a poem
14 years in the making

as usual
the poem goes off
in a direction I don't anticipate

I never know where my poems
will go

I just sit down
with something nagging at me

write me write me write me
NOW

and I've gotten up at 3 am
because the damn poem
won't let me sleep

that one was about
my future ex
a horse of course

Idaho Gigolo

my sister poem
takes me back
and deep 
until I cry

but the ending
is reconciliation
forgiveness
unexpected

that is why I cry

I don't expect reconciliation
from a damn poem
the poems do what they want
I never know 
what they will do

maybe they ARE alive

like a child
waiting for a fetus
waiting for the egg and sperm
to join

waiting to be born

wait

this poem is doing it too
damn it

but after the sister poem
I unload a huge burden
anger
and grief

and then to the facilities

and I unload there
too

so there

__________________

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: waddle.

Do you think the seal rock is poopy? Do seals and sea lions waddle or is there another word?