Hannah Cranston is an untried undergraduate eager to add her voice to the conversation. She’s shared poetry and prose on Cicada Magazine’s online writing forum “The Slam.” Her poem Child Walking at Night (2008) and short story The Hidden Room (2010) are published in the magazine’s yearly “Best of the Slam” feature. She may be young, but she is rich in experience: she draws on the unique beauty of a childhood spent in the Philippines and the remarkable lessons learned in encountering the United States, her home country, at the age of fifteen.
Reclaiming Sibine
By Hannah Cranston
By Hannah Cranston
I wish I could wrap my arms around the fire pole and slide down.
The metal might scud the insides of my legs, my calves may catch, my hands
might slip a bit in sweat, but at least I’d leave this wooden world for the one
that’s breathing just beneath. Who’s to say I wouldn’t find my rag doll twin
sister in her violet dress? White-freckled knees braced damp against the tunnel walls, dry leaf
twirled through her fingers, her hair a burgeoning, unkempt cloud. Sibine.
Her silver mumble is the thread I must follow if I mean
to make the descent in earnest. I don’t doubt that there are other worlds
tumbling beneath this floor. Their waterfall throb
is a force I can feel through the floorboards. If only I could will my eyes
to close, my clenched fists to uncurl!
I want to fall
backward in faith, without my rebel knees buckling, my sly feet
twisting behind me, catching me up, bringing me face to face again
with the splintered wall. Her croon swims up through rough boards,
a watery breath, a truth told slant.
Sibine is singing in the country below me, calling me sweetly beyond my depth.
I lean my forehead against the fire pole and gaze down.
Hannah, I missed this when it came out. I’m glad I found it today. The voice is evocative and the sense of displacement quite genuine. And the nod to Emily Dickinson in truth told slant fits perfectly with the theme. I’m proud to see your work here. Keep writing.