sharing

moments like these remind me of the reason for life.

women laughing, curled on the couch and aching sides from laughing:

air tight around vocal cords, higher pitched than usual.

power of the gods in this moment–we are eternal, and so is our shared life.

here, there is love and nothing could steal that,

nothing could burn us so badly we did not die with words on our breath–

i may burn, you may be torn from me, but

no matter the losses, this moment is ours.

Emily Kledzik is an undergraduate student studying Creative Writing. She is a queer woman devoted to understanding humanity. Her writing pays tribute to the people around her, the divinity and slight humanity she sees within her surrounding nature, and the great writers that come before her.

spring returning, slowly

dirt tracked inside on the bottom of my shoes later–

i can smell spring– quivering worms, grubs cut in half, sweat from use of my shovel.

dirt streaks the inside of my arm, white on brown like the sparrows–

digging for worms.

i, too, dig. dig for my community, to plant seeds and share food come hot weather.

song of the birds; trill matching my heartbeat.

we, all of us, celebrate the return and rebirth of our lives.

Emily Kledzik is an undergraduate student studying Creative Writing. She is a queer woman devoted to understanding humanity. Her writing pays tribute to the people around her, the divinity and slight humanity she sees within her surrounding nature, and the great writers that come before her.

Rebirth

I

My daughter's men come fast, 

tearing hard and strong, 

at the space between my ears.

There's nothing here can stop

this rancour,

and I leave, quite undone.

II

For where can I go?

Once all has changed

and all must be relearned,

reformed in essence,

reborn through time,

though unchanged in person.

First breath, then thought,

now speech, soon feet,

remould, reform, remember,

forget, remember, forget, remember

each turn down which life leads me

forwards into new life.

I shall not forget from 

where I have come,

how far I have come,

to where I need move.

I 2015 - II 2022

By Benedict Cadwallader from The Journey