by Violeta Garcia-Mendoza
Praise the sirenwail, the barking that accompanies the fire whistle, that whips itself into howling for its own sake; praise the slam of car doors, the passing traffic’s bass.
Praise the neighborhood, the neighbors, the neighbors’ toddler’s outside voice, his practice hellos; praise the full cacophony of outside play—
even the sidewalk chalk’s skip-squeal, even the basketball bounced again and again.
Praise the tumbling hoofbeats of sneakers in the dryer, my son’s gallop down the stairs; praise the toilet running— still, again.
Praise the drawershut’s rattle, spoonclatter in the silverware tray, the clink of stacking plates, the coffeemaker percolating, ding of the microwave.
Praise the constant dialogue poured over the days; talking talking talking; praise even the squabbling, even my daughters’
Buzzfeed quiz result debates; my son’s many recountings, the hockey play-by-plays; praise even the Minecraft zombie sound effects.
Praise my husband’s throatclear, praise the housefly buzzing in the key of F.
Praise the cicadas, the hydrangeas blown against the bathroom window; praise the wind-chimes, the whisper-press of pages in my hand; the poem,
however it descends. Let’s call it music— all of it. Praise
my daughter’s pencil drawing rain, the actual, sometimes incessant rain.
Violeta Garcia-Mendoza is a Spanish-American poet, writer, photographer, and teacher. She is a member of Carlow University’s Madwomen in the Attic Writing Workshops and a reader for Split Rock Review/Press. Her work has appeared in a variety of venues online and in person. Violeta lives with her family in Western Pennsylvania. You can find her online at https://www.violetagarciamendoza.com and on IG @violeta.garcia.mendoza.
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