For Pauline, For Abigail and Kathleen

Four little namesake girls
tucked in bed
Tucked in tutus, stuck with secrets
in hairpins

Four shared pretty things,
sharing swings on a backyard tree.

One July day, playing in-between,
three stop.

Hear a sudden drop.

Her scream.

Blackened wood rolled on top of two,
shading her in nail bit minutes
from splintered view.

Then lovely, she crawls from the leaves.
My sister singing back to me.