We shared the same bunk bed
in the tiny Astoria projects apartment
I laugh to myself recalling the 3 AM singing sessions
we crooned right along with the Bradshaw brothers
stocking caps plastered to their heads
doo-wopping on the benches below
beautiful voices framing the cold,
unforgiving, angular brick buildings and ghetto nights
Sis, you were my head pall bearer
shouldering the shoe-box casket
along with an odd collection of project kids
forming a procession up 27th avenue
towards the green steeple church on the hill
solemnly we laid Pixie the cat to rest
“Last Looks” I quipped before lowering the box
she had accidentally slipped out of the window
and was not as lucky as Winston Parks
a young toddler who had fortunately
landed in the bushes
when our newborn twin brothers, Chris and Pat
surprised our parents bringing the count to 5 siblings
I officially became the 2nd mom
a reluctant teen, my head buried in a book
simultaneously rocking a twin carriage and stroller
LOL...seems like only yesterday we were camped out
in apartment #6B planning all sorts of mischief
now there is a pile of little shoes next to my door
and the next generation trudging in
with water pistols, bubbles and coloring books