She’s already flying.
One second and she will gnaw through a chain between past and future.
The grass will burn green without getting old.
The yellow leaf will fall but won’t touch the ground.
She’s already flying.
One second and the thread is torn, and beads fall into oblivion:
unread books unplanted trees
incomplete lessons
unfinished teas unsung songs
unbought houses ungifted flowers
unreached old ages unwatched movies
uninvented verses unheard “yeses” unheated breakfasts
ungrated callouses unrealized potentials
unplayed matches unstaged performances
unstarted surgeries undressed suits unbuilt careers
unsaid “sorries” unexplained wishes unstained bedsheets
unresolved relationships
unborn children
She’s already flying.
Something very terrible will happen, and at the same time, nothing will happen.
Time will continue to flow.
Nature and people on the other side of Earth will wake up as if nothing happened
You are flying.
There is no time for even one breath.
We are people who are reflected on your surface, and many of us are colder and more soulless than you.
Past and future stuck together.
We yearn and mourn our past,
we hide behind ideas and dreams of the future,
and we are helpless before our present.
Svitlana Pavlyuchenkova, age forty-four, is from Donetsk, Ukraine and has been living in New York City since 2013. She studies with Corinne Butta at University Settlement Society, where Lucian Leung is the program director. Of her experience in the class, she says, “I am happy to be part of a diverse group of amazing writers from around the world.” She believes it is important to connect with others by feeling out one another’s differences and showing our strengths, and, in doing so, enrich one another and the surrounding world.