my father’s love language is weather updates
and tensely drawn-out silences—
i’m like him, persistently quiet.
maybe quietly persistent. when it
rains, i smile, for i feel the things
before they know they’ll be some
thing: this applies to love. here,
in me, it lives. but oftentimes, i rarely
know myself, and most mornings i
wake up numb. i want tender minds
to recognize mine, so i’m working
on being transparent. i know you
think it’s right there on my face. no
poker. if you saw, you’d see the
layers. i’m happy to miss you no
longer. a whole new life is to be lived
once summer ends. here’s autumn,
in all her glory: a warm kitchen with
warmer cider — and warmest of all;
the friends, the love, the weather,
the silence.
Faith-Marie McHenry is a third-year creative writing student focusing on poetry, prose, and hybrids. In middle school, she began writing short poems about crushes, friends, family, and proselike contemplations that any overthinker would understand. Her piece, "my father's love language is weather updates" is one of those contemplations, written on an average day in October. Its original title, "Love Letter to Autumn," was changed to capture her reason for writing poetry: to understand those she loves.