SIX MONTHS SINCE
Clothes tumble, leaving only a slight hum
as buttons and zippers kiss aluminum
walls—the closest to silence I’ve been in a while.
A familiar rubber grip, ink jetting black across
what once was a tree, perhaps pine. But I know
as the gravel cracks and stones suffer under
the stress of tons, my time with almost silence has ended.
A hole in a pocket grows wider, as fibers
stretch to conceal what has just been written. I don’t
understand why I hid it.
Author's Note: This piece comes from a very personal place. My mom was recently diagnosed with Alzheimer's; from the stress and chaos of everyday life, I stopped writing for quite some time-- a huge mistake. When I decided to write again, I had about twenty minutes before I knew my time to write would become interrupted. I wrote this piece in about ten minutes but it felt as if it lifted about ten years of burdens off my chest. This poem is so special to me; it flowed very naturally and reminded me to cherish the passions that keep me grounded and thankful of what I do have.
My name is Miranda Ardis and I am currently an M.A. student at Salisbury University, graduating this coming May. I also teach English 103 Composition and Research at Salisbury University.