I am a sister. Sometimes I feel like I should preface that statement as they do in AA: Hi. My name is Britton and I’ve been a sister for all but a scant three years of my life. I don’t think I’ll ever recover…

My sisters are my best friends. It figures, since we moved a lot as children, but always had each other. Each of them has her own friends, as well. As do I. We call them our ‘other sisters.’ And the poem today is from that perspective.

Lucille Clifton is one of my very favourite poets — an amazing writer and person. This poem reminds me that not only are our kin are our family. But also? Our kin sisters are verry special.

Here’s Lucille Clifton’s ‘sisters’:

me and you be sisters.
we be the same.

me and you
coming from the same place.

me and you
be greasing our legs
touching up our edges.

me and you
be scared of rats
be stepping on roaches.

me and you
come running high down purdy street one time
and mama laugh and shake her head at
me and you.

me and you
got babies
got thirty-five
got black
let our hair go back
be loving ourselves
be loving ourselves
be sisters.

only where you sing,
I poet.