Requiem XII
BY RACHEL DAI
we trade stories into the night often
on this swing set, like a pendulum.
yesterday it was biff loman. today it is
atlas:
it began the day your father left—
a puff of smoke, vanishing tricks;
we swung on these swings
until the stars rusted and the first snows
fell. like peach blossoms and fireflies
and the rumble of the sky on your shoulders,
i only wish someone had taught you
how to love. in the night you are
transmuted quicksilver alloy—
all shadows and angles and intangible things
(biff loman once said, “the jungle is dark
but full of diamonds.”)
lackluster sounds. cicada-song and
the wind chimes that whisper of
home.
you, who sees sunrise in
monochrome.
atlas, who will hold up the sky until
the end of time.
and i, who watch as you
ache;
buckle;
self-destruct.
About the Author
Rachel Dai, fourteen, is a freshman at University High School in Tucson, AZ. She is a passionate writer who enjoys experimenting with different genres and styles. When not ardently writing, she enjoys playing the piano, performing traditional Chinese dance, emulating the works of great artists, and watching classic animated films.
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