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My Child

by Irene Cantor, 2023

Oh, to be a child again.

The ebb and flow of the days, of the months… alas of the years.

Soon it will be your turn, my precious one, to take on the burdens and the joys.

But for now, your life is soft and cuddly and protected.

Oh my child, my dear child.

If you could only remember these times,

Not only for the happenings, but also for the feelings,

And deliver them to your own dear little ones.

Then the days and the months and the years will flow anew,

Oh, to be a child again.

Red And Other Colors

by Adam D. Fisher, 2023

A haiku and two tankas:

1.

Red maple next to

shimmering water flames in 

early October. 

2.

Red cardinals, black

and white chickadees, brown and 

tan sparrows, yellow 

gold finches, house finches’ red 

heads, eat seeds at my feeder.

3.

Red kidney, black, white 

cannelli, tan garbanzos:

beans soak in a pot

like multi-colored pebbles 

in the water at the beach. 

Sometimes Silence Is Better

by Jenna Levine, 2023

The loss is like someone

Ripping your heart from your chest

And crushing it in front of you.

 

In a matter of moments, 

Everything is heavy.

Your legs are weak,

And you can’t move your arms.

Some words try to escape,

But nothing comes out.

The only thing escaping

Is the salty liquid that’s pouring from your eyes.

 

The signals from your mind

Tell you to brush away your tears.

But you let them fall.

You let your face turn red with dejection. 

Your head fills with memories, 

You’re remembering…

What you did and didn’t do with them.

What you should’ve done, or shouldn’t have done.

It all blends together.

 

And you realize

Everything is quiet.

The silence consumes you

And you feel calm.

It’s not all so loud anymore.

Your mind has gone empty.

Behind sniffles,

You hear the silence.

Nothing can be said or done to make things better.

There’s no changing what happened.

The only thing that’s playing as relief

Is the silence.

 

The car ride to the hospital we all know,

We know there’s nothing to be said.

The silence consumes us,

And we’re left to think.

 

What will be different now that he’s gone?

How much will his passing truly affect us?

What happens now?

 

The family fills the room,

Gathering around the lifeless shell of a person,

Who used to be your father.

 

The Silence is loud.

No one dares to break it.

 

Later that week, 

“I’m sorry for your loss”

Fills the funeral room,

But it doesn’t make it better.

Silence would be better,

Much better than this.

The generalized apologies,

Lack personality,

It lacks true empathy,

Frankly,

It feels insincere.

 

It would be so much better if everyone

Stopped talking,

Stopped trying 

To make things better.

Stopped everything,

And embraced the silence.

 

Silence is peaceful,

And never awkward.

 

Silence is personable,

It speaks more than you think.

 

Silence is pleasant,

Relaxing and

Far,

Far from the noise of the world.

 

The noise is obnoxious,

Stress inducing,

Loud.

It’s distracting,

And irritating.

It keeps you from staying focused and on task.

 

Silence is better.

The silence swallows you whole,

Allowing you to reminisce on the world

Your life,

Your actions,

Everything that led up to this moment.

 

It’s all because of the silence,

There’s no judgment in silence,

No fake apologies,

No pretending to care,

 

Just peace and quiet

That is why

Sometimes silence is better