I’m wearing my sister’s clothes
Did she know
we shared similar taste and
wore the same size

First hand-me-downs in sixty years
I raided her closet
while she was in hospice
Her daughter said please
take what you want

The closet smelled
of Downy and dust
as I pulled each piece
from the rack

A scoop-neck blouse
with long, flared sleeves
splashed with peach
and robin’s egg blue
watercolors bleeding
in all directions
A pair of matching
blue ballet flats
A white woven Panama
with black-and-white trim
A teal and orange dress
slid over my head
Its silky softness
easing the loss

She gave me my first
dress-up dress
when I was six
and she was twenty
Tight flowered top
With long, twirly skirt
She dressed for dancing
I wanted to be her