Arrival in Charlottesville
Jeddie Sophronius
Jeddie Sophronius
Adaptation of untitled image, by Girl With Red Hat, digital photograph, 2022 (image courtesy of Unsplash)
The freezing dawn seeps
through the bedroom window,
dispels jetlag & mirtazapine.
Bags still unpacked, don’t
remember falling asleep.
The hard carpeted floor
pulses its echoes
on my back.
In my dream I was still
with you, as though there
was no reason it should be
otherwise. This unfurnished room,
its white walls — my new cage.
A friend texts me:
Is your family okay? I google
my country. An earthquake,
6.2 magnitude, a different
island than mine. This is a ritual
by now. Every year a plane crashes,
the earth consumes, a volcano
coughs, a tsunami cleanses.
I’m where I was five years ago:
in another country that will never
be mine, reading the news
about home from an empty room.
The flood recedes, the last tree in the fire
falls, we repair our roads, bury our dead.
Other than you, no longer in my life, what has changed?
through the bedroom window,
dispels jetlag & mirtazapine.
Bags still unpacked, don’t
remember falling asleep.
The hard carpeted floor
pulses its echoes
on my back.
In my dream I was still
with you, as though there
was no reason it should be
otherwise. This unfurnished room,
its white walls — my new cage.
A friend texts me:
Is your family okay? I google
my country. An earthquake,
6.2 magnitude, a different
island than mine. This is a ritual
by now. Every year a plane crashes,
the earth consumes, a volcano
coughs, a tsunami cleanses.
I’m where I was five years ago:
in another country that will never
be mine, reading the news
about home from an empty room.
The flood recedes, the last tree in the fire
falls, we repair our roads, bury our dead.
Other than you, no longer in my life, what has changed?
About the Author
Jeddie Sophronius is a Chinese-Indonesian writer, translator, and educator from Jakarta. He received his MFA from the University of Virginia, where he served as the editor of Meridian. A finalist for the 2022 Orison Poetry Prize, his work has appeared in The Cincinnati Review, The Iowa Review, Prairie Schooner, and elsewhere. Read more of their work at nakedcentaur.com.
About the Work
"I’ve been dividing my time between the U.S. and Indonesia for the past seven years. When I returned to Charlottesville, VA in January 2021, after having spent most of 2020 back in Indonesia because of COVID-19, a familiar scene played out. It was the same thing every time: a disaster struck my country, some friends checked in on me and inquired about my family, I read the news, and so on. Throughout the years, my ex-fiancée had been the figure who kept bridged the distance between me and home. After losing that figure, I’ve been slowly recollecting and rediscovering my place in the world.
About the Author's Process
"I alternate between writing and non-writing days, or rather, nights. When I am writing, I would start around midnight and continue until my body says enough. Sometimes I would write for just an hour or two. Sometimes sunlight would peek through the curtains before I stopped. When I’m not writing, I would wait, consume, and listen. I compile ideas — usually as lines — and I jot them down as notes. I suppose such is the privilege of writing poetry: you can enter and depart from the page as needed."
Jeddie Sophronius is a Chinese-Indonesian writer, translator, and educator from Jakarta. He received his MFA from the University of Virginia, where he served as the editor of Meridian. A finalist for the 2022 Orison Poetry Prize, his work has appeared in The Cincinnati Review, The Iowa Review, Prairie Schooner, and elsewhere. Read more of their work at nakedcentaur.com.
About the Work
"I’ve been dividing my time between the U.S. and Indonesia for the past seven years. When I returned to Charlottesville, VA in January 2021, after having spent most of 2020 back in Indonesia because of COVID-19, a familiar scene played out. It was the same thing every time: a disaster struck my country, some friends checked in on me and inquired about my family, I read the news, and so on. Throughout the years, my ex-fiancée had been the figure who kept bridged the distance between me and home. After losing that figure, I’ve been slowly recollecting and rediscovering my place in the world.
About the Author's Process
"I alternate between writing and non-writing days, or rather, nights. When I am writing, I would start around midnight and continue until my body says enough. Sometimes I would write for just an hour or two. Sometimes sunlight would peek through the curtains before I stopped. When I’m not writing, I would wait, consume, and listen. I compile ideas — usually as lines — and I jot them down as notes. I suppose such is the privilege of writing poetry: you can enter and depart from the page as needed."
