
Laurel Szymkowiak is a poet from Western Pennsylvania. Her work has appeared in Cagibi Literary Journal, Gyroscope Review, Twenty-two Twenty-eight, Pedestal Magazine, and Voices from the Attic in addition to other publications. Laurel was listed as a finalist for the 2024 Lefty Blondie Press First Chapbook Award for her chapbook, Agnes. She is a regular participant in Madwomen in the Attic writing workshops.
Day-Glo stars scraped from the ceiling,
bedspread and curtains replaced.
Corners swept of drifted glitter, layers of makeup, foam hairbands.
Now a spare room.
In another, cool green paint covers little boy sweat, adolescent anger.
Cartons of ripped CD, creased photos—remain unclaimed.
Each room too neat in this too-quiet house repurposed
for the guests I’ve raised.
Late afternoon of an anonymous day. I pull out an old, dog-eared calendar
wedged in a box between Goodnight Moon and Babysitters Club.
Its year returned and sat on my lap.
That analog constant companion piloted my days through
packed lunches/carpools/ball games/meetings/no-school days/
phone numbers/shoe sizes scribbled in the margins/
strings of music classes/work schedules/appointments/ birthdays/////
Every empty minute an opportunity
to fit in a puzzle piece of
Just. One. More. Thing.
Today
I climb the reef of my morning,
and search for chips
of my children’s laughter,
the smell of oranges clinging to their hands.