A poetry project by Maya Goldman

When the new baby sister came

screaming into the world just like they had,

golden wispy curls just like they had,

thirteen, eleven, and nine years ago,

all her friends teased the baby would have six hands

 

It was an exercise in

independence from their parents and

dependence on each other

Existing sisters, by nature,

bond when another is added to the mix

​

Sister #2 moved into her bedroom

to carve out space for Sister #4,

sister #3, she says, is forgotten (wonder what #3 would say about that)

At school she talks to #2 and #3,

but what is there to say to a five-year-old on the phone, Really?

​

The baby was a world traveller at four months old

“That’s how you know she was an accident—

we already had the plane tickets!”