At Cider Hill

Ryan Sodora

At Cider Hill

As the sun rises from the east light sweeps over a green garden The devout dog yaps from the yard secured on a once chrome chain weathered and rusted in the hands of white walls standing shoulder to shoulder

A stream that once roared has entered a state of idleness as its thirst has been quenched Wherein the gray clouds once gathered now hosts a spotless stratosphere Pine needles and crab apples garnish the ground and a doe dashes to reap the seeds of the storm

From the patio, I see the swing set ever so familiar, now faded by the years What was once scarlet and spry has not seen attention in ages and had been beaten by fallen branches And my favorite seat now creaks and cracks when I sit where my parents used to push me

The sun shines triumphantly, bright beams of light and yet I am numb to this newfound warmth To be embraced by those white walls once more To taste the tang of a fresh, garden tomato and to hear the roar of that same stream Back when the bed beside me was warm and there was no need to call you

Pale moonlight covers the quad A star-peppered sky evokes shades of Pollack Students assemble in the densest of dorms and strangers sing songs sincerely as one

smiles sewed on their faces They raise their red cups and guilelessly vow to drink ‘til dawn

Vacant paths pervade campus like veins The new day’s gleam greets the masses starved and strung-out The promise of Tully pancakes entices them and they migrate together toward this Mecca New friends tell treasured tales of the night bonds being made over the moving and mundane

Outside my window, I see a coal-colored car the most modern model, a novel of the new year The bronzed bottle opener on the current keys a relic of the once crashed caravan At the wheel, my dad sits, smiling back at me now geared with glasses and further grayed hair Despite all that is different, his presence soothes my soul

On the way home we talk about it all Golden helmets that go over generations The murmuring mutt, that same dog that still yaps How we are embracing this unaccustomed emancipation on this ever so erratic-feeling earth In times of uncertainty, I yearn to return to Cider Hill so he stands by and embraces me like those walls did

MEET THE AUTHOR Ryan Sodora is a junior at Fairfield University but is originally from Upper Saddle River, New Jersey. During his free time he enjoys listening to music, watching sports, and spending time with friends and family. He has always enjoyed writing in his classes and for his high school’s newspaper--because of this, Ryan recently decided to change his major from Accounting to Digital Journalism with a minor in Film, Television & Media Arts.