We would perch, back to back, not facing, yearning for the other,
Abandoned Lock Canals, they ran like veins across tree-hooded land, pumping hope, surging grit,
It was the minutiae that fused them, those six, sisterly, serene, apparently unruffled confidants,
Truck rolling by, logs quivering shimmying. Was it clearcut,
I have finally thrown away the card I bought for the birthday my little sister never celebrated.
Daily Prompt: Misstep The Latin word for misstep is lapsus, I tell her, La-zoo-lee, my daughter shrieks.