the wishbone is still there,
at the corner of my window
rampart against the dust
I had hoped the sun would make it brittle
and it would crumble away on its own
somehow, it remains there unyielding
the idea of another possibility
has weathered the seasons
and the handful of snowfalls
that remain unexpected in the yielding spring
I figured that it had tensed a little
having waited long enough
like I have, for a new life
still stuck on its previous employment,
yellowing with the crevices of bookshelves
chair creaking from not being used a long while
the backroad outside its window has yet
to erase some tire marks
from the cars that stopped driving through
I figured I’d give it another chance
renewed purpose on the slim chance
it forgets in which hand I—
keep expecting to break.
Roberto Guzmán-Hernández is a writer and scientist from Puerto Rico currently based in Philadelphia. He is pursuing a PhD in Biomedical Sciences and trying to catch up on the rest of the world at unreasonable hours. His poetry and other writings have appeared in online publications Demoliendo Hoteles and Cruce, as well as physical anthologies. He also writes for the multidisciplinary cultural collective Archivos del Caribe and coordinates the online blog tierras por imaginarse (but hasn't updated it in a long while).
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