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  • Home
  • About
    • IMPACT Team
  • Submissions
    • Guidelines & Policies
    • Apply for Editor
  • Issues
    • 2022: Ergo >
      • Writing
      • Art
      • Performance
    • 2021: Reformation >
      • Writing
      • Art
      • Performance
    • 2020: The Revival
  • Contact

who i was

by Sadie Olson
We were moving all our things 
Books, shelves, clothes, 
What you heard was hums and sings 
It was in those moments
I only realized 
What we couldn’t bring. 

It appeared outside the house
Among piles of rock 
And sidewalk chalk,
It surely was never dim. 
And to me,
A young one, 
It always was a whim.

I stood there day to day
Fascinated by its beauty
Deepened into the array 
The rain slid from its pane 
I hoped 
I prayed
It would always remain. 

The months and years fell past 
There truly was never a 
Real last 
I dreamed to have it round my neck 
Or in my hands for my new treks.

It comes back every now and again
A reminder 
A glimpse
At how

I was then.  
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