Your Shadow’s Stuck on 42nd Street
I miss the day trips to the backyard swing,
cuddling with the dim light shining over our house.
This was before the days when I no longer knew what light was.
I miss the mornings where I walked down the stairs,
gripping onto my pajamas at 4 in the morning.
You were there, already fixing our bowls of ice cream.
We would talk a long time, then 30 minutes was all we had till work.
Your imprint was a part of my mind, body, heart, and soul.
I miss the late nights in the pool,
the silly stories you share that spread among your coworkers.
The sappy love stories you made off the top of your head, always made me laugh.
I never forget you, your laugh, your smile, what you meant to me,
especially during the chilling winter nights.
I couldn’t truly fathom that the grounds cared as much as I did for you,
and your shadow stuck on 42nd street.
They grasped your scent into the creases,
your feet made paths that paved ways for you to walk on again.
You’re the token to the fixture of this pathway.
I would get stuck on you any day.
I will miss the days when I thought you would return,
I will miss the humor you shared with my sisters, most importantly Kate.
It won’t ever be the same without you,
so I keep your photograph in my jean pocket.
I know it wasn’t your choice to leave,
I know there are things you have to change,
and I know you’re glad I respond to your letters.
I know I’m not okay with you gone, but I know I let go,
and when you come back, I won’t ever let you go.
Meagan is a Speech Pathology major and Spanish minor. Her elementary to college years confirm her love for poetry. More publishing in her future!