Poetry By Kristin J. Kelley

mogollon CC




Missing 

When we were small, our parents told me my eyes changed colors with the seasons. You bit all the other kids in the neighborhood. The slide projector smoked in the back of the basement, the dust in the light mixing with the memories we hadn’t finished living, spying on our own vacations. You said, "Holy shit—we had a happy childhood! I've been telling everyone for years it was miserable.”

I miss the perfect morning that disappeared while I slept for two hours. A single black coffee, red accents, anticipation. Orange spice and Marlboro Lights, I love you, I love you, I loved you. Once I walked through the building where I worked, in the city I was about to leave, and pretended I was a ghost. I floated through the day, amazed at the way people—and places—adapt to your absence. But I know now we don’t adapt, we adjust. You’re gone, but  traces of you inhabit everything: the sillage of candied florals, a warm summer night on the beach, fried clams, Moon River on the radio. 

I don’t miss alcohol. But I do miss the taste of fruit-scented bidis—or maybe just the heat of the summer I smoked them. I didn’t realize how much I missed liking baseball until I started liking it again.

I remember missing what I thought would happen. There’s a memory of that beach in Atlantic City—he’s standing next to me, the sunlight blocking his face. I just see wind-tangled blonde hair, freckles, skin that looks like it would warm your hand if you touched it. I'm holding a shell, sharp against my thumb; an iridescent piece from a dream, a snapshot, something that might not have even happened; I can't remember. I don’t always miss the life I never had, though often I wonder.

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Kristin J. Kelley is a Boston-based poet and editor whose work explores grief, family inheritance, and the quiet imprints of loss and survival. She hosts and organizes a poetry reading series that raises funds for local charities. Her recent work has appeared or is forthcoming in Arnoldia, Sky Island Journal, Thimble Literary Magazine, and elsewhere.
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