box-of-stuff
Destruction and Reconstruction
by Hannah Ward

We are yanking out thumbtacks
that supported poster-sized pieces of who we are,
and made a simple room into our own.
Shoving wrapped dishes into an empty trash can
to keep them safe from the pothole rattling trip
ahead of us.
Things thrown in boxes make our whole material life
fit in the back of an ashy white Neon,
which has become our sanctuary.
Packing like we are losing a game of Tetris,
until it all fits inside with just enough room
for driver and passenger, husband and wife.
No U-HAUL following behind
because there is no need,
we own no furniture.

One bag at a time we begin to unbag, unpack
as we allow ourselves to feel at home
between four new walls.
Books and knickknacks come out
over days at a time; mornings mean an eight-hour shift
but evenings are for time together.
There is little energy to unpack,
instead we explore the new street
walking hand in hand in the moonlight.
Because we have no bed to rest on
we lie side by side
on a borrowed couch.
We may not have many things,
but we have each other
and a fresh start.

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:  As a writer, I have had terrible writer’s block for a few months, ever since graduating college. I saw this call for submissions and decided to go out and buy myself a new notebook to possibly kick off a creative burst. This is something that I do when I want to write in a new style or simply want a new start. I own many notebooks for poetry and stories, and most of them are half full because I feel that when life closes a chapter it is good to essentially start a new book. This is how I am feeling about my move that I talk about in this poem. Since my graduation from college in May, my husband and I have moved three times to three towns near where I have been working. This move and the fresh start has kicked my creativity back into gear.

ward

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Hannah Ward is an aspiring writer with a BA in English and creative writing. She has written poems and collections of short stories since she was very young. Her first poem was kept safe by her mother and is dated from when she  was only five years old. What inspires her to write is the need to connect with those around her and those who may be experiencing the same hurdles in life. She does not crack under pressure, but instead  writes and tries to turn hard times into something that others can relate to through her words. She feels that if others are going through similar tough times that they can read her words and take comfort knowing that they are not alone in the storm that our lives become at times.