SAUDADE
by Moriah Parker
And this house is looking back
wondering why a stranger wanders through its halls.
My room is dark and empty. Dead roly-polies stare up at me from the carpet.
Their ghosts follow me as I drift through the house.
This place is more home to them than to me.
They still remember the smell of food cooking,
of people laughing.
They still recognize the faces of the people on the walls.
But I am the ghost that haunts this place now.
I am the thing that makes the fish mobile in the bathroom sway.
That turns on the tv at six am.
That steals Jolly-Ranchers from the bedside table.
The whole house sighs dejectedly.
The people that lived here are gone, and these roly-polies have moved in.
There is no use in hanging on to this place. In trying to recover lost things. It is not my home anymore.
I forgive it now.
The person I am looking for is not here. They left long ago. I will go with them too.
And search for better company than pill bugs.
Moriah Parker is a senior pursuing a dual major with English and Japanese with a minor in Creative Writing. She has a love of poetry inspired by poets such as Li-Young Lee and Mary Oliver and hopes to one day be able to work as a poetry translator while working in Japan.