The Semi-Colon Speaks

THE SEMI-COLON SPEAKS
(RARELY, BUT WITH FEELING)

– a poem in partial conclusions –

I’m not a full stop; I’m not a comma;
I’m the shadow that falls between thoughts;
a boundary, blurred;
the lingering tension in a well-read pause;
you used to know me.

There was a time—
you valued ambiguity;
you embraced complexity;
breath, hesitate, wander;
you’d draw breath and know:
it isn’t over, not quite yet;

Now you swipe;
you “lol” and move on.
I don’t fit in your tweets;
your Reels;
your Threads (ironically);
I am not algorithmic.

I’m too much for the simple;
not enough for the bold.
Teachers fear me;
editors cut me;
with polite ellipses...

I once kept Woolf afloat;
let Forster linger;
I was Hemingway’s rare indulgence;
independent clauses—
tenuous, trembling, together;

But now I wait in footnotes;
lounge in literary journals;
turn up drunk in student essays—
pretentious, misused, misunderstood;

Still, I endure;
I connect what others sever;
I suggest what others demand;
I hint;
I balance;
I hope—
that one day you’ll remember there’s still space
for something that isn’t quite this or that,
but both;

;