Erin Armstrong
THE WEIGHT OF BODIES
My grandmother cared and carried the weight of bodies.
Her ghost stands in the street to speak of bodies.
Her ghost stands in the street to speak to bodies.
I dug a hole to plant her a cherry tree.
I dug a hole to plant her a cherry tree
and held the weight of her silent emotion.
I held the weight of her silent emotion.
I’m tired of asking photographs to speak.
I’m tired because photographs won’t speak.
She raised her three boys so they would talk.
She raised her three boys so they could talk.
Everything that existed was because she cared.
Everything exists because someone came before
to carry our bodies, to invigorate our minds.
Erin Armstrong’s (she/her) work has appeared in several literary magazines, including Mom Egg Review, Seedfall, Indy Correspondent, Fiction Southeast, Black Heart Magazine, Lost Magazine, The Museum of Americana: a literary review, and more. She received her MFA from the University of Arizona. She lives in Shoreline, Washington. More of her work can be found at www.erinarmstrong.org