March 2022

Back to Issue 11


By Shane Strange

Did I abandon you like my father did to me and then my mother? If so, when did I do it?
Can you mark the time you felt left by me? When you mistook silence for disregard, or maybe felt stifled by silence, like a soaked woollen shroud cast over your face—each breath wet and close?

Is this why you tried to cast yourself into the lake with your hoodie covering your face ? To make real what must’ve only been the shadow  of me and mine, and all that came before and all that was after until time ended with you ending.