Wednesdays on One Poem Only are a double feature: one poem here on the podcast, and one more by the same poet shared on Instagram.

Cycles

S. Salazar

The space in which my family occupies is a revolving door—each rotation moves me further from their timelines.Yet turning to push the door in reversewon’t take me back to a time with them:to picnics beneath the Central Park oaksor a game of tag among Puerto Rican palms.I existed decades after Abuelo exited the door.I stepped between the panes of glassjust as A...