I see it in my brothers hands.
The books they have read, the words they have run through.
I flip through them and marvel at their minds,
as mine starts to unravel.
My sister loved to read.
Her last year was marked by books.
Funny ones, upbeat ones, ones we shared.
Just this past summer we roamed the bookstore together,
with stacks under our arms.
We shared our favorite authors.
What my sister liked in a book, I mirrored.
She told me, that at her last doctors appointment the news was bitter and tough to swallow.
She said, she looked up at her doctor and then quickly back down at her book.
"I just wanted to get back to the characters in the book" She had said to me, "They were so happy."
She loved getting lost in a book.
She loved the characters.
I have a list of books I have to read.
Some the last books my sister read.
But of all the books I will read,
I will forever treasure the book she escaped to last.
It made her laugh and love,
and then she did what she always did...
she passed it on to all of us, her siblings, to share.
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