Elwood

Photography by Addison Lee, staff writer

Torn sleeves from hands wearing down

Passed past father-daughter bonds in threads

She was a small girl scared of monsters under the bed

Maybe she was a thief but cloth wrapped and loved till dawn

Ten years later and she still swims in its fabric

Limbs grown taller she now stands more evenly parallel

To the owner his aging to her is a bittersweet kind of unbearable

Cut threads softened from wear hanging gently on thin shoulders

Except now it doesn’t quite reach as far as her knees

From home to school it sees a new world 

Canadian elwood she does not know

But only from stories passed down maple leaf trees

Live in spirit through song and bloodlines

A home she never knew but cannot forgo

Holey comfort it waits folded thickly in her closet

Deep dark that place is where time shuts down and pauses

Yet when wind bites and falling tears threaten

Sky screaming at her light

She knows its cloth won’t disappear

Sewn together it carries memories of father

And it cannot be erased

Neither during day nor night

Addison Lee is a writer and student from Southern California. Her work has been recognized by Scholastic and River of Words. In her free time, outside of writing, she loves to bake, watch rom-coms, and play the bass.