The Thousand Zippers

FiberArts Internation 2019

FiberArts Internation 2019

The thousand zippers,
One for each time
You were told to “zip it”.
A thousand times
When all you were looking for
Was an answer,
A response,
Someone to notice
That you were alive.

Your size
Made you hard to miss.
But even harder to reach.
Your hands,
Big as the basketball
You spent hours with
On the abandoned playground,
Had a gentle touch
That your grandmother
Knew well.
You carried her
From her bed
On the second floor
Down to her chair
By the window
Every morning,
Then back up the stairs
Every night.
No one ever saw
How you brushed out her hair,
Braiding it
When she was young
And beautiful.
No one knew
How much you cried
When she passed.

All that remains
Is this shell
Of who you appeared to be
But really weren’t.

Laura McGinnis
Pittsburgh, PA
May, 2019



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