HAPPY BIRTHDAY SISTER AMY (or The Ame as I call her)
What? Mommy had another girl?
Fine with me, the eldest who would run home from school to see baby sister in crib.
She would rise up and smile.
Her keppela bore curls. They were something to behold, like in a Burt Parks
Miss America Pageant.
She would have won the Friendship Award.
So many, so many. Betsy Abend, Susan Heller.
On the sea shore in Miami Beach where we traveled in the winter
Mom was pregnant. Yes pregnant again.
Once in love with Amy played on the car radio.
Got my wish and we named her Amy. Amy Greenwold.
With an 'o' don't forget that.
Masha was her Hebrew name.
Did she like being a Jewess?
I endured it, attending Sunday School in a Montessori school.
Soon time for college. Damn the years pass as fast as skittering white clouds in the sky.
College catalogs in the mailbox back in Shaker Heights Ohio, 44122.
Who ever heard of Stockton State College?
She met her husband there. Pomper. Funny name.
Wedding dress perfect for her. In antique shop in New Hope, Pennsylvania.
Married in Huntingdon Valley where it poured all day. We ate in tents. White tents.
Never heard the rain. A catered affair like in films with Audrey Hepburn or Mia Farrow.
Amy and Rich was the refrain, until it got old.
With an enviable personality she never lacked for friends. I remember visiting years ago in Oregon
for Natalie's bat mitzvah in a shul. Guitars strummed and Natalie spoke about the virtues of being a vegetarian.
Harrumph, I thought. But maybe I should try it.
The smell of the sea on the Oregon coast. Of pine trees oozing sap.
Of Iceland Slim we read together.
Read? Of course she's a librarian!
Green foliage hanging from the sky. Dripping from the sky
like in a Faulkner novel.
Lovely and lovable, like her boyfriend David
skin dark as a Motown Brother.
Amy will always be young. And smart. And on the vanguard
of great things to come. Can you hear her tiny finches chirping
birthday wishes? Today, Wednesday, June 29, 2022, the world is hers.
And nothing will stop our sister, our sister Amy.
Fine with me, the eldest who would run home from school to see baby sister in crib.
She would rise up and smile.
Her keppela bore curls. They were something to behold, like in a Burt Parks
Miss America Pageant.
She would have won the Friendship Award.
So many, so many. Betsy Abend, Susan Heller.
On the sea shore in Miami Beach where we traveled in the winter
Mom was pregnant. Yes pregnant again.
Once in love with Amy played on the car radio.
Got my wish and we named her Amy. Amy Greenwold.
With an 'o' don't forget that.
Masha was her Hebrew name.
Did she like being a Jewess?
I endured it, attending Sunday School in a Montessori school.
Soon time for college. Damn the years pass as fast as skittering white clouds in the sky.
College catalogs in the mailbox back in Shaker Heights Ohio, 44122.
Who ever heard of Stockton State College?
She met her husband there. Pomper. Funny name.
Wedding dress perfect for her. In antique shop in New Hope, Pennsylvania.
Married in Huntingdon Valley where it poured all day. We ate in tents. White tents.
Never heard the rain. A catered affair like in films with Audrey Hepburn or Mia Farrow.
Amy and Rich was the refrain, until it got old.
With an enviable personality she never lacked for friends. I remember visiting years ago in Oregon
for Natalie's bat mitzvah in a shul. Guitars strummed and Natalie spoke about the virtues of being a vegetarian.
Harrumph, I thought. But maybe I should try it.
The smell of the sea on the Oregon coast. Of pine trees oozing sap.
Of Iceland Slim we read together.
Read? Of course she's a librarian!
Green foliage hanging from the sky. Dripping from the sky
like in a Faulkner novel.
Lovely and lovable, like her boyfriend David
skin dark as a Motown Brother.
Amy will always be young. And smart. And on the vanguard
of great things to come. Can you hear her tiny finches chirping
birthday wishes? Today, Wednesday, June 29, 2022, the world is hers.
And nothing will stop our sister, our sister Amy.
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