My sister and I are as different
As
spinach and blueberry pie,
Yet
together we laugh,
Which
reduces, by half,
All
the ways our distinctions apply.
Even
now, in New York for a visit,
Where
the weather is brutally hot,
She,
a Florida gal
From
a schvitzy* locale,
Will
insist that, to her, it is not.
Still,
our blood and our family connect us,
Plus
our faces wear similar smiles,
So
our sisterly bond
Cuts
through white hair and blond
And
our spinach and blueberry styles.
*to
schvitz means to sweat in Yiddish
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