“Constellations” by Hannah Siden
Poetry Pause is the League of Canadian Poets’ daily poetry dispatch. Read “Constellations” by Hannah Siden.
“Constellations”
By Hannah Siden
My grandfather taught me landscapes
as wide as the night sky. Riding
through Colorado, my horse following his
up the trail, I thought he’d also go on
forever. When he died my sky closed
just a little bit. My grandma hung on
longer, her dementia slowly clouding
the blues of her eyes. On a clear
day you could see her fully though,
all the way through to her childhood
on that Iowa farm. My lineage is wide
open spaces — rippling cornfields
& dusty mountain paths leading into
nothingness. I’m not scared of
nothingness. My grandparents taught me
to go towards the silent places.
In the retirement home, Grammy & I
sat by the window each day & watched
the flag flutter gently in the wind.
This was Wisconsin, now, looking over
the lake. Blue on blue on blue.
The horizon mirrored in her eyes, misty
& endless. We remarked on the same
things in new ways each time but mostly
we were quiet — the afternoon sun
making its way across the beige carpet,
my Grandma in her wheelchair watching,
watching. I’ve never felt more lucid
than in those moments holding her hand,
watching that flag & the haze on the lake.
I thought this is what the entrance
to heaven must be: a quiet window,
onto a lake, onto a lifetime & then
as softly as ever, almost imperceptibly,
beyond.
Copyright © Hannah Siden
Hannah Siden is a writer and filmmaker living on the unceded territories of the Musqueam, Squamish, and Tsleil-Waututh Nations (Vancouver, BC). Her poems are published/ forthcoming in PRISM International, Canthius, Metatron Press and elsewhere. Find her on Twitter @hannah_siden or at hannah siden.com.
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