(for Donna)

You could probably still get into yours,
though I am far, far from the hundred-pound

lifeguard chick twirling her Acme Thunderer,
ready to blow it if kids running on the deck

failed to heed my call of “slow down!” with
all the force of my 16 years behind it.

But you, dear sister, also rocked the red bikini,
our preferred poolwear for guarding,

saving the one-piece Speedo for mornings
when we taught little kids how to float

face up and face down, to pull and kick
and glide, preferring to be a bit more

covered as gasping faces and grasping hands
reached for whatever part of us they could.

I still love the image that ran on the front
page of our local paper—a classic weather

picture, as the photographers called them—
you, floating face up in the pool

in shades and red bikini, ankles anchored
to the tile gutter, hands behind your head,

beyond cool. A babe, for sure, unruffled
and calm, as you’ve been all these years,

a steadying force in my life and those
of the ones you made into family.

You, my unwavering anchor, my mooring to all
that was and is, the womb-mate who later

occupied the same space in the one who
made us, rocking in that ocean

of the ever and the after.

•••

For the best sister ever, Donna Gail Haag Just, on her 66th birthday.
I so wouldn’t be me without her, and I wouldn’t want to be.
Thank you, DG, for all you do for me, for the fam,
for Mom and Dad, who are certainly, always, cheering us
on from the heavenly bleachers.