"Everything is always the same," Poem by Kreek Daey Ouwens

"Everything is always the same," says my
eldest sister: "the sky is always blue
with sometimes a bit of white and grass is
always green. It is never red.
Never orange!"
"We too are always the same," answers
my second sister. "We always have
the same dress. And the same shoes. And we
always play at being somebody else . . ."
"Perhaps we should die for a moment," says my
eldest sister again. "Just for a moment
and then we'll return. Then everything will be
new again!"
We stare at our cracked shoes in the
green grass.
"We could play at being dead,"
I suggest.
"That doesn't count," my eldest sister says.
"It has to be real!"
Our grandmother is at the bottom of the garden.
She just stands there. Not working. We see
her white hair. And part of her
floral apron. Up in the sky float
peaceful white clouds. A white bank of clouds
surrounded by rain. Empty and grey
like the sea.