Poem #10: Andy

April is National Poetry Month, and this poem is a companion piece to my story "Andy," published in Barren Magazine in 2019. Around that time, I experienced a depression that fundamentally changed me. I gave it a name and a life force, which helped me a lot in my recovery. I often reflect on what Andy was and is. While he isn't around much anymore, his memory is never far. On a lighthearted note, Jonathan contributed the line, "rolling hills on a terminal moraine," during a long road trip a few years back. I jotted it down as a joke and promised I'd work it into a poem someday. It's perfect for this:

There’s a place inside myself I cannot bear to go
That’s where he lives, or dwells, or is

Absent the rolling hills on a terminal moraine
Beyond us, my muse, a small wooden square

Within a house, a house:
A crooked, dilapidated place and a ghost I never see

An encounter I dread and long for
To chase and be chased forever

My greatest obsession: possession
Staring back, my muse, from the abyss into me

"Andy," copyright 2025 Amelia Cotter (first published in Highland Park Poetry Winter Muses’ Gallery, 2025)