These two poems by Alyssa Ladewski travel between meadow and city blocks, capturing the violence, resilience, and haunting silences woven into the land we stand on…
by: Alyssa Ladewski
Meadow
a reflection of the purest eyes a human has ever seen
in the middle of the green meadow that's suddenly turned a bloody red turn away, pretend like it never happened even though your hand was on the gun
you sit outside surrounded by the calls of those here before you drowned out by the screens of your technology turning this world into a kettle about to boil
it's not cold in winter anymore where's the snow that used to fall upon your tongue quickly melting away
go grind your coffee while the soil dries settle your grounds while the plates of the earth stand uneven brew the espresso through pressurized water while the river is empty
sip your coffee while the world drowns
the meadow is no longer green anymore
4 miles
w e s t
Gone are the tree-lined streets,
the smooth paved roads,
and the quaint coffee shops that once hugged the corners.
They’ve been replaced
by silence heavy with sirens,
by kids shot walking to school,
their echoes still running beneath my footsteps.
But the music still plays here.
The native tongue returns,
rolling off the tongues of those who still remember
when speaking it turned heads
just 4 miles east.
How did I end up here
while everyone else is there?
It’s not fair
that million dollar homes sprout like tulips 4 miles east,
while here, the trees are ripped from their roots,
the pavement crumbles,
the block sits
bare.
But this is where I stand.
Where I teach.
Where I give.
Where I fight
so my kids can have the best damn band in the city.
You ask what’s missing
4 miles east?
Everything
that still breathes
just 4 miles west
Alyssa Ladewski is a Chicago-based poet, band director, and environmental traveler whose work bridges creativity, community, and nature. Her poetry has appeared in The Nature of Our Times and she has an upcoming publication in the Remington Review. She also contributes as a content creator for Three Panels Press. When not teaching or writing, she explores city streets and wooded trails, seeking quiet cafés, meaningful conversations, and stories rooted in place and purpose.
