My Sister, My Mother
Rachel Wheelon Young Writers Issue | Poetry, Winter 2025
Matthew 5:29
Elle was born with her palms together and head bowed.
Her life was a sin she was born repenting, lips whispering
an apology as our mother had done quietly each night
under the blankets she still wasn’t used to sharing
with a husband. Mama held my sister in one arm and balanced
a bible in the other. She was nineteen but knew the verses
better than the preachers at her church and it didn’t
take long for Elle to know the same.
1 Corinthians 12:23
Mama loved the beach until her stomach made her feel
like a whale, gained more attention than her belly
button piercing. Her polka dot bikini collected
dust on her closet shelf, but her bible remained clean.
In the morning, her eyes glazed over Genesis and when the light
of the three o’clock sun shadowed our walls, she flipped to James
then Malachi then Judges and when night came, she reflected.
Jonah 1:12
Elle shares eyes with my mother but nothing else.
Blonde waves turned deep brunette and freckled skin
erased to a pale porcelain. Mama made sure to raise her the
way she was supposed to. She would grow up in church,
and harvest each Sunday sermon. She would go to college
and her bible would have a place on her shelf.
Psalms 24:3-4
But Elle overwatered those sermons she planted. She grew too
dependent on them, and the rest of her drained. She envied those
with clean hands for when hers reached for simple pleasures, it
was greed. The same hands she learned sign language with to
bring one who couldn’t hear to God, that baptized her in front of
hundreds. She prayed for the last time in the afternoon sun and
when night came, she reflected.
______________________________________
Why is this piece your Trace Fossil?
“This piece is one of five in a collection surrounding the theme of sisterhood. Though a six year age gap and 2,680 miles separate us, my older sister and I are incredibly close and we have been since I was little. Though the focus of the poem is about her, it is a representation of myself because the vulnerability and honesty were only possible through writing, which she inspired me to do. Religion and my family's differing relationships with it is a topic I've grown up observing in periphery. This piece allowed me to shift perspectives and focus clearly on parts of my culture I haven't seen before.”
Rachel Wheelon (age 17) has been a creative writer at Charleston County School of the Arts since sixth grade. Her work explores topics like mental health, body image, and relationships through a variety of forms, most commonly poetry and scripts.
Please view on desktop for the intended line spacing.
My Sister, My Mother
Rachel Wheelon | Young Writers Issue | Poetry, Winter 2025
Matthew 5:29
Elle was born with her palms together and head bowed.
Her life was a sin she was born repenting, lips whispering
an apology as our mother had done quietly each night
under the blankets she still wasn’t used to sharing
with a husband. Mama held my sister in one arm and balanced
a bible in the other. She was nineteen but knew the verses
better than the preachers at her church and it didn’t
take long for Elle to know the same.
1 Corinthians 12:23
Mama loved the beach until her stomach made her feel
like a whale, gained more attention than her belly
button piercing. Her polka dot bikini collected
dust on her closet shelf, but her bible remained clean.
In the morning, her eyes glazed over Genesis and when the light
of the three o’clock sun shadowed our walls, she flipped to James
then Malachi then Judges and when night came, she reflected.
Jonah 1:12
Elle shares eyes with my mother but nothing else.
Blonde waves turned deep brunette and freckled skin
erased to a pale porcelain. Mama made sure to raise her the
way she was supposed to. She would grow up in church,
and harvest each Sunday sermon. She would go to college
and her bible would have a place on her shelf.
Psalms 24:3-4
But Elle overwatered those sermons she planted. She grew too
dependent on them, and the rest of her drained. She envied those
with clean hands for when hers reached for simple pleasures, it
was greed. The same hands she learned sign language with to
bring one who couldn’t hear to God, that baptized her in front of
hundreds. She prayed for the last time in the afternoon sun and
when night came, she reflected.
________________________________________________________________________
Why is this piece your Trace Fossil?
“This piece is one of five in a collection surrounding the theme of sisterhood. Though a six year age gap and 2,680 miles separate us, my older sister and I are incredibly close and we have been since I was little. Though the focus of the poem is about her, it is a representation of myself because the vulnerability and honesty were only possible through writing, which she inspired me to do. Religion and my family's differing relationships with it is a topic I've grown up observing in periphery. This piece allowed me to shift perspectives and focus clearly on parts of my culture I haven't seen before.”
Rachel Wheelon (age 17) has been a creative writer at Charleston County School of the Arts since sixth grade. Her work explores topics like mental health, body image, and relationships through a variety of forms, most commonly poetry and scripts.