What heaven is like
can still remember her as she was then,
the sound of her voice, the smell of her hair.
I can still remember how we used to play,
with dolls or with hats, with crayons or clay,
I can still remember those days.
She left with no warning, like a dove in the rain.
She left as to say, live with no regrets.
Listening now, the talk of the day,
of heaven and life beyond the feared grave,
I can honestly say, to no one's dislike,
life with my sister must be what heaven is like.
submitted January 1999