The old station wagon
Pulls to halt in my driveway.
The five children fall out
of its rusted doors
shouting and laughing.
She turns off the noisy engine.
Slips ghostlike from the drivers seat.
Her five hours of driving
In a bedlam of her children’s noise.
Looking so slight and frail.
My heart melts again.
I enfold her in my arms
And whisper thanks for coming.
Even though I have moaned
About her children’s disruptions.
The extra work cooking
And entertaining.
I look into my sisters face
And whisper I love you Sis.
You are always welcome
In my house.
And in my heart.