Were you, reader, ever the younger child? Did you have to watch your sibling get a training bra, go to prom, pick out a college first? Did it hurt? Or, more simply, were you ever grounded? Did you have to watch through stained-glass tears while your parents carted away your Gameboy or your stuffed dog, with the assurance that you’d have them back in three days, four days, a week?

Bouquet Toss

 My sister got married
 And set atop a high shelf - 
 I was grounded from her.
 I waited and stared impatiently
 As she moved North, 
 Took semi-annual international jaunts
 Wore the latest fashion
 And left her tabs open
 She barely decorated her mansion
 And found every excuse to come home
 But by then there was nothing to talk about
 No common wire to perch on
 Two years and a torrent of abuse
 Locked my sister behind glass
 While I continued to stand below her shelf
 To catch her
 Now, though – I hear it in her voice
 A storm is coming
 I throw out my arms.