KD
  • Home
  • About
    • Contributors List
    • KD's Blog
    • Award Nominations
    • Support
    • Contact
  • Press
  • Issues
    • Issue 49
    • Issue 48
    • Issue 47
    • Issue 46
    • Issue 45
    • Issue 44
    • Issue 43
    • Issue 42
    • Issue 41
    • Issue 40
    • Issue 39
    • Issue 38
    • Issue 37
    • Issue 36
    • Issue 35
    • Issue 34
    • Issue 33
    • Issue 32
    • Issue 31
    • Issue 30
    • Issue 29
    • Issue 28
    • Issue 27
    • Issue 26
    • Issue 25
    • Issue 24
    • Issue 23
    • Issue 22
    • Issue 21
    • Issue 20
    • Issue 19
    • Issue 18
    • Serenity
    • Issue 17
    • The Audio Room
    • Issue 16
    • Issue 15
    • Issue 14
    • Play It Again
    • Issue 13
    • Issue 12
    • Issue 11
    • Issue 10
    • Issue 9
    • Issue 8
    • Issue 7
    • Issue 6
    • Hand to Mouth
    • Issue 5
    • Issue 4
    • Issue 3
    • Issue 2
    • Issue 1
  • Submissions

Sarena Pollock

familial burdens

My grandmother tells me the story of her father’s abandonment at every holiday dinner, every time we drive past the birthplace of her legacy. There, that’s the house I grew up in, the one on the hill, and I expect her to scream, or cry, or laugh, but she says nothing. She lets the silence fill the story in for her. I dismiss my father’s call for the third time this week, and every time I do, she reminds me At least your father calls at all. Fatherhood is an illness my family refuses to treat, the missing link in our bloodline that no one seems to notice. I watch my grandmother through the kitchen door read the letters addressed to me from my father, and part of me wants to scream, but the other part lets her continue, because maybe she likes to imagine his letters as the ones she never received from her own. The other day she told me her father finally died at 95. I asked if she went to the funeral, but she just laughed and said He’s been dead to me for 63 years. I don’t ask why she never sent the letters she’s rewritten to him over the years. Sometimes it’s easier to imagine having a dead father than one who left. 

Biography

Picture
Sarena Pollock (she/her/hers) is a poet and artist from Pottstown, Pennsylvania. She is an upcoming graduate of Susquehanna University studying Creative Writing, where she is an Intern for Santa Fe Writers Project and President of SU Slam Poetry Club. You can find her work in the latest issues of Honey & Lime and Metamorphosis - Paragon Press.  
 
Website: https://sarenapollock.wixsite.com/papertalk
Twitter: https://twitter.com/sarena_pollock
​
back to issue
​Next Poem →
Picture
ISSN 2639-426X
© COPYRIGHT 2018-2021. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
  • Home
  • About
    • Contributors List
    • KD's Blog
    • Award Nominations
    • Support
    • Contact
  • Press
  • Issues
    • Issue 49
    • Issue 48
    • Issue 47
    • Issue 46
    • Issue 45
    • Issue 44
    • Issue 43
    • Issue 42
    • Issue 41
    • Issue 40
    • Issue 39
    • Issue 38
    • Issue 37
    • Issue 36
    • Issue 35
    • Issue 34
    • Issue 33
    • Issue 32
    • Issue 31
    • Issue 30
    • Issue 29
    • Issue 28
    • Issue 27
    • Issue 26
    • Issue 25
    • Issue 24
    • Issue 23
    • Issue 22
    • Issue 21
    • Issue 20
    • Issue 19
    • Issue 18
    • Serenity
    • Issue 17
    • The Audio Room
    • Issue 16
    • Issue 15
    • Issue 14
    • Play It Again
    • Issue 13
    • Issue 12
    • Issue 11
    • Issue 10
    • Issue 9
    • Issue 8
    • Issue 7
    • Issue 6
    • Hand to Mouth
    • Issue 5
    • Issue 4
    • Issue 3
    • Issue 2
    • Issue 1
  • Submissions