I take off my green apron and change into my sister’s dress with a pattern of orange seahorses.
While my owl ways have me in the sky asking questions, she is breathing underwater birthing ideas like a shiny seahorse.
I paint my nails a pastel gold and think about a sky bridge to the depths of the sea where birds and fish can play together.
My owl eyes have gazed deeply into the ocean, but all I could see were shadows of S’s, X’s, and O’s.
When the winter comes, I will hide again in the trees and whisper to myself Who Am I?
And then I will hear a faint cry from the sea. You Are My Sister.