Although my parents picked at me, and mocked
my oddities, and disciplined me first
(I was the oldest), and were sometimes shocked
or charmed the way I spoke, and thought I nursed
my shrimp as prized beyond how each enjoys
a favorite, though for years I haven’t heard
them say I’d better supervise the boys,
I understand the power in that word.

So silently I’ve watched my brothers age,
and now and then I subtly intervene.
I don’t believe they notice, and no wage
is paid me to perform, but I feel clean
at heart and proud to tend the sibling cord.
Caressing self-approval’s my reward.