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Bruises

A poem

Published on:
November 23, 2020
Read time:
1 min.
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Gifted with a bike for my fifth birthday.
Its purple tassels caught the sun.
I never joined danger,
even when it’s honeyed voice called.
No cuts, bruises, or snapped bones.
I dug my fingernails into my palms
as my friends hung upside down on the monkey bars
and plunged off the top of the boulder.
Without nose diving, how was I to rise?
Years passed, and age licked my skin.
I returned.
I played. I hollered.
At last, I leapt.
Red and blue flashing lights, sirens guided by dusk.

Kelli Lage
Kelli Lage lives in the Midwest countryside with her husband and their dog, Cedar. Lage is currently earning her degree in English Education. Lage states she is here to give readers words that resonate. Awards: Special Award for First-time Entrant, Lyrical Iowa.

Cover image by Andriyko Podilnyk

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