Jennifer Judge
The Susquehanna River as a Metaphor for the Melancholy that Seeps Through Each Generation of My Family
Cover Art: William H. Rau, Picturesque Susquehanna, near Laceyville, L.V.R.R. c. 1898. Albumen silver print from a glass negative. MOMA.
The Susquehanna River as a Metaphor for the Melancholy that Seeps Through Each Generation of My Family
Wide-mouthed and cruel, cold, debris-laden,
it smirks, reclines in its banks, satisfied to watch us watching it. In winter, it is bound within its own mind, a locked up land of ice that cracks and heaves to show its power still. In spring, it is the rage and the roar of it, the melting snows that feed it, feed it; it is the way it catches light, reflecting and repeating, mesmerizing us, undulating in dark swirls. The best houses line its shores, eyeing it warily. Born a year after the big flood, a childhood tucked safely away from its power, I, too, have been trained to gauge its steady rising and falling, that imperceptible sound becoming the rhythm of my life, trained to monitor its every mood. |
Jennifer Judge’s work has appeared in Literary Mama, Blueline, Under the Gum Tree, The Comstock Review, and Rhino, among others. She has lived, worked, and created in northeastern Pennsylvania her entire life. She teaches creative writing and composition at King’s College in Wilkes-Barre and is the organizer of the Luzerne County Poetry in Transit program. One of her poems was recently selected for permanent inclusion in the Jenny Holzer installation For Philadelphia 2018, appearing in the lobby of Comcast Technology Center. She earned her MFA from Goddard College and lives in Dallas, PA with her husband and two daughters.
past, Carol Hamilton next, Scarlett Peterson