To 2016-2017
To Current Issue
Dear Time

By Mackenzie Oster

  1. Untitled
    By Allison Rothrock
Dear time,
You have created a whirlwind of indecisiveness inside of my head. You steal beautiful people, you force us to leave beautiful places, and you allow us to slowly deteriorate. You bring us warmth in the summer, until the gusts of wind take over and carry the world into the bitter storms of winter. You provide us with grey hair and wheelchairs, while distant memories of youth linger in the bottom of our hearts. But we dig. We dig because it's easier to pile up and cover gaps that we know we will never be able to go back to, and you, are the motive behind that. You take pure bodies and turn them into dust, dust with the sole purpose of encircling around an empty field. This empty field was once a park. A lively park that encompassed many children on those bright red swing sets. A park where mommy and daddy's brought their beloved first babies. But now this fields meaning rots away in each fading flower, leaving only subtle doses of life in the few green patches that still remain. 
Yet you are the thing that mends broken hearts. You take things away, and if we are lucky enough, send beauty back into this abandoned field. You allow the vivid gaps in our hearts to be refilled with newfound simplicity. I once watched a bird drop a seed in the empty field. A few days later, a tree grew. Now, the field has one simple tree. You, time, showed the resilience in that broken park. You, time, have now overtaken the dead patches of dust only to birth a sprouting tree. Mommy and daddy's now bring their babies to climb this oak that I now write underneath. You help us to recreate ourselves in each thing you take away from us. You allow us to try again. You bring new life into the lifeless world of familiarity.
So why, time,
Are you here?