I don’t normally write poems…

ACROSS THE ROOM

- Kyle Nolan -

Then my brother hugged me.

And I finally bawled

because I didn’t know what to do

when my grandmother died

and my brother nearly drowned himself

and buried himself in my chest.

But I couldn’t. I couldn’t force

a fluid ounce of emotion 

for the woman 

who had formed me,

who didn’t have any shape

of her own anymore.

And so I don’t know if 

I actually cried

because of my grandmother’s

death, or because

I was playing my role.

I stood with my brother

inside her room but

I stood by the door;

because even though I’d grown 

like a shoot from this woman’s life,

I had all my roots buried

in the floor across the room.