As our talk leaked
like the last-call beer
dripping past the
evening’s ash, I saw
a change of you.
Somewhere between the
banjo-bite of the Blue-
Ridge grass and your
surge to master words,
all glimmer of girl left
your hazel-flame eyes -
you’d embraced the life
of the mind.
More Medb than maid now,
warring on and strong, a
woman who knew the true
sound of the name born
by our blood - my sister,
yourself forever. In pride,
we smiled.
I wrote this for my sister's college graduation, May 2012.
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