Refuge

I still feel safest in the trees where the woods
become refuge, the tangle of tree branches towering
above me instead of concrete bridges and interstate clovers.

I can travel to new places with daydreams
and library recommendations, escape
into the backyard woods.

My drawstring backpack adorned
with embroidered horse and riding boots, I slide down
an incline of broken twigs and moss,
a tangled hill that leads to a shallow
creek. It was once deeper, the rest
evaporated with only a trickle    

within the gap.   


Long Time Coming

— Richmond, VA, Summer 2020

 

I.

Jeff Davis trending
in bubblegum pink.
He tripped and fell.
#NotMyPresident.

II.

Lamb’s Blood BLM
|flyers on the classy
houses, more worried
about windows’ lives. 

III.

J.E.B. Stuart is now J.E.B. Skate
Park, two teens paying no mind to
roundabout drivers hissing out of windows.  

IV.

Robert E. Lee, decorated general
in pastels and graveyard flowers,
surrenders for a 2nd time. 

V.

Children climb the scaffolding paved by I-95.
Black ballerinas conquer the world. Channel 6
Zooms in on a deflated beach ball as tourist citizens
film the choreography of an impromptu basketball game.


the one where i see the anthrax letter in a museum

it's behind glass in the exhibit next 2 mail fraud trivia but what does that matter when i spent my early years refusing to touch the mail or wondering if there would be a job for me one day or if i'd see a tarot card in the grocery store and go zig-zag just like they taught me on the news yet everyone is telling me i need 2 practice my handwriting but who has time for that right now i gotta get perfect attendance and good citizenship so they treat me well in middle and high school and say i have such a bright future ahead


Gretchen Gales is currently the executive editor of Quail Bell Magazine. Her written work has appeared in Next Avenue, Ms., Huffington Post, Bustle, and more. Find her work at writinggales.com.


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I See Faces in Trees