My sister, Serafina, sits by the window, all day, every day,
— but what does she see?
There is nothing across from us except that ugly
Building across the way.
Nothing but traffic far below.
We are, after all, on the fifteenth floor
of our apartment building.
Sister Serafina does not embroider
or read or listen to the radio. She
just sits and looks out and she does not
talk to me.
Or anyone else
About that fateful day
When Albert told her he did not want to get married, after all.
Even though the bans had been posted.
And Serafina had her trousseau,
even her wedding gown, and
had chosen flowers for the church.
We learned later, to our dismay,
that Albert had fallen
in love with someone else.
A blonde-hair floozy who wore face paint
and short skirts with high heels.
“Serafina,” I say. “Would you like to go for a walk in the park?”
And she smiles and says
“Oh, no sister, I am fine. just fine–Right where I am.