Beyond Understanding
Abandonment mingles with pain
when my two friends suddenly disappear
without sharing with me their plans.
My pace, deliberate. Theirs, too fast.
They’re visible ahead but I can’t catch up.
While climbing the stairs, someone pushes
hard into my back because I am too slow.
During this unusually turbulent moment,
I turn and boot his abdomen, hard—
leaving him the one falling behind.
The aches in my back, hip, now foot, pale
only to feeling discomfort with my reflex.
Apparently beyond control, violent kicking
entered my lexicon of acceptable behavior.
I proceed victorious...and diminished.
Turning the other cheek gains new meaning
while pains from my earlier 8-mile walk
stab their presence, head to butt to toe.
With eyes closed wide open, I thrash about,
encounter sketchy strangers along my way.
One offers candy. Another, a flirty compliment.
A third offers delayed assistance, more time
for me to wait, unsure of the outcome,
unsure of the place being right, in this
arcade of performers on revolving stages.
Finally, one of my friends sees me,
hands me my ticket, turns, speeds off
leaving me frowning—amidst a crowd
of intermission-mingling smiles—
forced to ask an usher for assistance.
I finally reach my seat next to theirs.
No apologies offered. No guilt espied.
Comfortable in their own skins, it seems
they would do it all over again.—And me?
Still asleep, struggling to interpret this dream.
Copyright 2024 by Joy Martin
Joy’s writings have been published in Muddy River Poetry Review, Midway Journal, Radical Teacher Journal, Ibbetson Street Press, Josie’s Trunk, and Blended Voices. She serves on the board of the New England Poetry Club and is a member of The Poetry Society of Virginia and Newton Poetry. Her poems explore multitudinous facets of life, including her and broader humanity’s place and challenges within it.
30 for 30 is sponsored by Potomac Review
