So it Goes

It’s funny how I remember your cheerios

Overflowing after you added the milk.

It happened every time, the rings piling up the sides

Before leaping over the edge, and you’d just watch

And maybe laugh at the mess we made

Together before spinning them on their sides like coins,

Waiting for who would outlast the other, my wins

An eerie foresight for $3.79 in a cardboard box.

Your cascading oats resulting subsequent piles

Of dry cereal, return to the screen behind my eyelids

As if it were a paused movie just waiting to resume.

But somehow there are no actors in this film,

I see your hands swiping across the wooden table,

The freckles and wrinkles that I’ll grow into,

And the family photos on the wall waving

In the breeze from the open screen door to my left

It’s funny how I can close my eyes and watch

Your spoon push those at the edge right off,

But I need a photo to remember how your smile looked.

About the Author

Ryan Hiemenz is a senior Media and Communications major with a concentration in Multimedia Publishing and a minor in Creative Writing. Currently, he is a CTLM fellow on the communications team, the Layout Manager for The Compass, the Editor-in-Chief of Arcadia University’s literary magazine Quiddity, and the Co-Editor-in-Chief for Loco Mag, a Philadelphia lifestyle and culture magazine. Ryan enjoys spending his free time reading, writing poetry, and hyper fixating on specific film directors until he’s watched everything in their filmography.