Frangible Life

Ernestine Hayes

 

 

She sits on the rim of a stone planter

in a tiny park named after a monster

on a day unseasonably hot

 

Raven hair and sharp cheek bones

remind every glance

of yesterday’s beauty.  She stares at her feet

scuffs the toe of her worn tennis shoe

 

on a dried wad of tobacco and gum

Glances at an engine’s noisy passing

Is it too late? Is it too late to learn how to drive

a motorcycle, get a license, buy a Harley

Roll a green sleeping bag

 

Cord it with a water bottle and folded map

Sissy bar and full dresser pack

on-the-road soap and a once-white cotton towel

 

Fit a donated helmet to a now-clear head

adjust borrowed shades against the wind

rev the motor clever and tough

by a flick of a handlebar wrist

 

Take off

Take off

Take off

Down the road the lonesome highway the route to sixty-six

degrees of separation free at last

 

spell the words on a map across the country: free sober free

at last looks back down at the scum at her feet

her only need is for relief her only currency

worn sex

 

the sound of the engine fades and with it

the image of herself

as anything but here

 

Copyright 2007 by the Tipton Poetry Journal.

All rights remain the exclusive property of the individual poet and may not be used without their permission.

 

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