I’m on a northbound bus headed to a train headed for home.
When I get near Sacramento I will look out the window towards the east.
Somewhere in a trailer that may or may not be hooked up
is my sister. And a man she found to take her in.
I have no address. No way to reach her.
Even if I could reach her.
Last time I texted her was on her birthday at the end of March.
She was a week or two sober and 38 and I said I hope this is a better year for you.
No shit. She texted back. Somewhere under there the humor
She was going to go see someone. Get help. Get in the system.
Sign on the line that says I need help.
That line family members can’t sign on
but we wait on that line helplessly hoping
that our siblings our children will sign off on their own need.
She never did. She was convinced it meant locking her up.
No key. No way out. She’d rather be free.
So she’s out there somewhere.
Tearing it up after a recent drunk.
A year come and gone like no time at all.
