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  • Sarah Van Arsdale
    • Apr 2, 2022
    • 1 min read

April 2, 2022

Updated: Apr 11, 2022



From her room next door

flicked whispers,

susurrations passed between

her best friend Helen

and my sister.

My door ajar, I listened.


Outside, in pale green spring light

the crocus bursting

from their dark envelopes

and by the barn

the wild forsythia

twisting into flower.


All my life, I’ve missed her.


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