Kristin Flick Strid:

Looking for My Brother, a Poem

I dream every night
Gramma calls me to the table
water overflows down the stairs
from the old footed tub
my French exam is in Spanish
I’m a kid sledding with my children
under a full moon

You are never in my dreams

Other people tell about
night visits from their dead
signs they get
the hoot of an owl on the roof
a yellow butterfly that stays the summer
cosmos that bloom in too cold October

I want to hear your voice
your footstep
feel you looking over my shoulder
think I see you in a crowd
you promised to let me know
about the angels and the saints

Now come sledding with us
tonight under the full moon

* * *

Biographical Note for Kristin Flick Strid: I started writing stories and poetry as a young mother of five, sneaking time at my typewriter while the children napped. In the early 80s I enrolled in an autobiographical writing class and have been there ever since. Every Monday morning, I would steal away to my secret place, behind the heavy wooden doors, in the parlor of the old Victorian house, where we read each other’s work, talked, and listened to each other. It was there, engrossed in the works of my classmates, that I forgot if we were out of milk, if the dog needed his shots, and didn’t care what was for dinner. I made many life-long friendships and began to learn the art of good writing. My published works include The Swimming Lesson, an eighty-three page collection of poetry, two children’s stories, and inclusion in Monday Mornings, an anthology of short stories and poetry. For more writing by Kristin Flick Strid, see Author Index Prose L-Z and Author Index Poetry.