Mittens are drying on the radiator,
boots nearby, one on its side.
Like some monstrous segmented insect
the radiator elongates under the window.
Or it is a beast with many shoulders
domesticated in the Ice Age.
How many years it takes
to move from room to room!
Some cage their radiators
but this is unnecessary
as they have little desire to escape.
Like turtles they are quite self-contained.
If they seem sad, it is only the same sadness
we all feel, unlovely, growing slowly cold.
— Connie Wanek
from "Bonfire," New Rivers Press, 1997
Her most recent book is "Hartley Field,"
from Holy Cow! Press
To the outside world we all grow old.
But not to brothers and sisters.
We know each other as we always were. We know each other's hearts.
We share private family jokes.
We remember family feuds and secrets, family griefs and joys.
We live outside the touch of time.
~ Clara Ortega