Vagabond, a year

It’s been a year since I heard her voice.

It was straight and sober for a moment.

But, It wasn’t hopeful.

I said, Happy Birthday–

may you have a better year.

There was a chuckle

A heh heh.

Yeah, you can say that, she said.

It has to be.

That was a year ago today.

There’s been time and space.

Some days I don’t think of her at all.

Some I think of her too much.

I came across a box full of

photos of her: childhood, teens, the early 20s

the times not quite sober but not quite gone either.

In that box was a child of mine. A sister. A friend.

A memory.  Without anger. Without the fear.

Without the tic twitch of the not fully recovered.

Sometimes I wake up wondering where she is

Hoping if she’s alive whom ever she’s with

isn’t overwhelmed; isn’t leaving her.

Side of the road. Side of my head.

The Vagabond is still roaming.

 

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About margaretelysiagarcia

Margaret Elysia Garcia primarily writes fiction, essays and poetry from a remote corner of the Sierra Nevada. She's currently working on a non-fiction book about plus-sized modeling. She's also searching for a publisher for her new collection of stories? Mary of the Chance Encounters. Her short story collection Sad Girls & Other Stories out now on Solstice Literary Press. She blogs here and at Throwing Chanclas and Girl Body Pride. Is a contributor to Hip Mama Magazine. She writes the zine The Adventures of Sad Girl with her daughter, Paloma. She’s a three-time director of the national Listen to Your Mother Show in Plumas County (www.listentoyourmothershow.com). She has an alternative women’s music show Milkshake & Honey on Plumas Community Radio (www.kqny919.org).
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