In Vaudeville, the Bicycle Rider, by Charles Demuth
I will never forget
how quickly your scooter sped down the hill
how much fear was etched
on your mother’s face,
how forcefully you hit the gravel,
how hard your body jolted
on the pavement,
how intensely my heart surged,
as if shocked by a defibrillator,
how desperately I sprinted to reach you,
each second stretching endlessly,
and how grateful I am
you are still here,
to also never forget.
I lost my fear of death
a few years ago
So why did
my chest shutter
and my head flood with cold
when I noticed
this mole had grown?
My body is me, but I am more than my body
One day,
when I reach
what I am (not) afraid of,
we both will be raised
Then my body and I will be at one with another
as we are in You
September 14, 2024
If I could feel sorrow // for a thing entire of itself, // it would be St. Helena Island.
Improvisations - little more than // preludes as inclined by other options // and expression as to what will happen
By Jessie Brown
Mossed path through rhododendrons tall as trees // and here come the hens, burnished legs slow-stepping // eight, nine, ten copper bodies like Aladdin’s lamps