My Sister's Map

I used to sleep beside my sister

when a stuffed bear wasn't enough

to protect me from monsters. 

And I stared at the map 

across from her bed,

looking sideways at Russia,

making lizards and dogs

out of North America

until I fell into dream 

adventures in Indian jungles

and treks along China's curves.

Now, when dreams of penguin colonies

warming each other in the vast freeze

won't come, I feel my way along the wall

into her empty room, and I find

my sister on her map,

place my finger on her

heart in the ochre-colored

country at the tip of Africa.

I once envisioned only

elephants and giraffes there,

but my sister dreamed of children

with beads braided in their hair.