Emily Patterson (sher/her) is the author of two chapbooks: So Much Tending Remains (Kelsay Books, 2022) and To Bend and Braid (August 2023). Her work has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize and is published or forthcoming in Rust & Moth, SWWIM Every Day, CALYX, Mom Egg Review, Minerva Rising, Literary Mama, Whale Road Review, and elsewhere. Emily holds a B.A. in English from Ohio Wesleyan University, where she was awarded the Marie Drennan Prize for Poetry, and an M.A. in Education from Ohio State University. She lives in Columbus, Ohio with her family and works as a curriculum designer.
The Only Constant
The thing is, it’s Sunday, and by nine
we’re already three Sesame Street
episodes in when it begins to snow,
fat flakes falling fast. It takes at least
forty-five minutes to gather two coats
each, your hot-pink snow pants,
and only one mitten. I can reach
your red plastic sled from the rafters,
but when you realize you can’t ride
and pull yourself all at once, it’s over—
sled left to gather ice in the street.
Instead we shake puffs of snow
from the hydrangeas, watch them
spring up like a release. The thing is,
my patience lately seems to have
died, its once plush petals hardened
yet fragile, buried under winter
weight. I cannot seem to follow
the advice—to remain unfazed
as you scream when I won’t let you
eat the snow from your boots,
when you push your will against mine
only to pivot to need, to me—our bodies
once again a connected heap. Later,
I scald the grilled cheese, scrape its burnt
into the sink. You tell me the inside
is best anyway, carefully peeling
a stretch of cheddar from the crust.
The thing is, you forgive me constantly:
missing mittens, blackened bread,
the edge in my voice that reveals
too much, the way I am still learning
how to forgive myself.