Saturday, July 30, 2011

10th Week, 10th Blog

Dear Mom,

For all the conversations I wished to have, washed away in root beer bottles somewhere along the Pacific Rim. Maybe one day a sweet sailor will find my dreams.

We were close when I was a young turtle, but now I am on my own. I swam great distances in foreign waters with enemy creatures.

Take my trophies and awards, they mean nothing to me. Empty shells of praise going out in public, but back home a different set of waves brink.

You used to rock me in your arms with a white cotton blanket while singing children songs that were quick to put me to sleep.

I had to age. I had to grow. Now that you are gone there is so much more I wanted to know: ironing clothes, cooking recipes, wearing makeup and dating advice.

Everyday I journey out to see you. Anxiously waving my white banner into the darkness while mosquitoes snipped at my skin. I wait, but you never come.

Here are my dog tags and uniforms in a brown beaten up cardboard box. I left you to fight in war. You never understood or agreed, but I respect that.

Here are my journals. If you would like to feel how I view the world read my collection of poems, plays, stories and songs.

“A Poem’s Worth”

Penny a poem
penny a play
penny a story
penny a song.

One day I’ll be rich-
holes in my socks and
pants pockets.

Ching, chang

I don’t hear them fall or
see them sprinkling the ground.

I’ll just stay on this corner
working my hands
with my figure eight
shaped guitar and
black ink
playing with words.

Penny the poet
penny the writer
penny us all.

-Krista Dora

Dear Sarah,

I remember waking up in the middle of the night fetching you a warm bottle of milk. Bringing it to your crib I snugged you in blankets and played the music so the ballerina would dance in the pink box.

I fed you cheerios one by one with my fingers, also with a spoon entering your tiny mouth I made train and car sounds. You had a pink and white bib with the words “Double Trouble.”

I read you different books of adventure with animals and people. Amazed at the colorful pictures that popped off the page grabbed your attention.

Blowing bubbles on your belly button and in chocolate milk were some of our favorite times. Laughter graced the air and happiness filled the room.

So much I left behind, but never forgotten. I don’t know where we are now, but at least I have these few memories to keep.

Love always your sister,

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