So many things are happening. So many things keep happening you wouldn’t believe it. Or maybe you would. The snow was bad in the Southtowns last night. Do you know about those kinds of things? I’ve just finished Ammons’ Garbage and I’ve folded down the corner on the page where he says life is not first for being remembered but for being lived! But here I am lost in the remembering again, pressing two fingers deep into the scar tissue that’s formed over my sternum from trying so hard to reach you. An ache for so long. Single digits today and sunny. Snow falls and flies in murmurations from the pines behind the house almost giving rise to something solid I can hold on to. My friends from college keep telling me I’m too old to be listening to Taylor Swift but they can’t stop me; I have Amazon unlimited now on all my devices. I don’t think I see you at the bus stop anymore, but I can’t untether you either from those heavy bands of lake-effect snow, the coming spring, or the pain in my chest I can count on to flare up (smoke & falling gold dust, sparkling bangs) on those first hot sweet summer nights of July.
About the Author
Susan Barry-Schulz grew up just outside of Buffalo, New York. She is a licensed physical therapist living with chronic illness and an advocate for mental health and reducing stigma in IBD. Her poetry has appeared in New Verse News, SWWIM, Barrelhouse online, Nightingale & Sparrow, Shooter Literary Magazine, The Wild Word, Kissing Dynamite, Bending Genres, Feral, and elsewhere.