At the pond,
shivering in the winter dusk shadows,
she stood next to me—
my twin—14 years younger.
We watched the water dance as
the wind whipped fiercely
around us, biting and snapping
at my ears and fingers.
The white ducks came
resting at the water’s edge
and looked to us for something to eat,
only to turn back to diving for pond minnows and weeds.
And she smiled, her eyes sparkled like the water itself.
I looked at her,
and she looked at me—
her eyes like mine—
and our giggles bubbled out
and into the biting air,
as the white duck bathed himself while fishing.
I, too, felt baptized by frigid air, sisterhood and youth.
~1997 (edited slightly in 2015)