‘ō’ō lullaby

resurrected in an echo
you aren’t able to hear

you aren’t able to understand
why the thing speaking back
sounds exactly like you
same spaces in between still holding out for an answer

did you notice your family and your family’s family
dropping around you like the trees that used to cradle the beach
or was it quieter than that
imperceptible, even
dusk falling on the mountains laden with mosquitos

an entire cacophony
fuck that, a symphony
cast among eons
ending on a high note
ending on your single, high note
a curtain call for an orchestra we weren’t there to hear
we showed up in the lobby as the stage emptied out
a swan song when they had already counted you out
left you to die in a jungle churning with cloud and water and things you didn’t have a song for
would you want the credit
when it was the only thing you knew how to do?
did you know that it was coming?
did you realize in the end?
what was scarier: the silence,
or the moment you realized the voice calling out to you
sounded exactly like your own?

Bailey Lohmann (any/all) is an artist, designer, and writer who lives, studies, and works in amiskwaciwâskahikan (Edmonton). They will complete their BFA in Art & Design at the University of Alberta in 2023. Bailey is usually busy doing things they like to do, from playwriting and oil painting, to graphic design and illustration. If you want to contact them for a miscellaneous art project of any kind, their email is blohmann@ualberta.ca. Until their website goes live, some artwork can be found on Instagram @baileylohmannsart, and if you want to send them money, their etransfer email is keeya99@gmail.com.