by Talya Jankovits
I learned on our walk
last night that I can not
talk to you. Like cicadas
it’s better to bury it all
for years and years—
emerge a battalion
of crying. Shed my exoskeleton
as I flood tree trunks, climb
up
up
up
to shelter in oak and maple
hide my song— nothing
but a faint drumming
so constant you don’t hear
me at all until Autumn
envelopes you, a chill
alerting you to the silence
of impending winter.
I am gone.
Talya Jankovits’ work has appeared in a number of literary journals. Her short story “Undone” in Lunch Ticket and her poem, My Father Is A Psychologist in BigCityLit, were both nominated for a Pushcart prize. Her micro piece, “Bus Stop in Morning” is a winner of one of Beyond Words Magazine’s, 250-word challenges. Her poem, A Woman of Valor, was featured in the 2019/2020 Eshet Hayil exhibit at Hebrew Union College Los Angeles. She holds her MFA in Creative Writing from Antioch University and resides in Chicago with her husband and four daughters.
Emerge Literary Journal 