My Little Sis
My Little Sis
Silence at sunrise.
It's not unusual.
It's summer,
for late slumber.
Yet , a sound.
Woke mother and I.
Gargling sound.
So terrorized and frightening.
My little sister
shaking uncontrollably.
Panic.
Motionless.
What to do, but watch.
In fear and desolation.
Until it was over.
Did relief come.
My sister blank oblivious eyes.
Eyes watching our expression of distress.
Remember?
Not a thing.
Not the foaming.
Not the abstract look.
Nor the meager breathing.
A memory of it, not existent.
Not knowing that
we'd watch her struggle
between life and death.
The outcome never known;
dread always there.