Zoë Huettl

Honors in Creative Writing

Helen G. Scott Prize for Writing Excellence in Creative Writing

Echo

 

Yesterday I balanced the frozen pizza

On its cardboard tray

Pushed the sprung door with a hip.

 

I didn’t expect him to look up and he didn’t.

 

I know my man,

How many scoops of protein he slugs

Room temperature and lumpy

From a plastic bottle. I wash the wire ball

He uses to mix and level the powder he tips in.

 

Today he isn’t hungry

And what good am I,

My palms empty, hanging

Over the particle board table

Already collecting dust.