Walking the Pulitzers (Arnold Hardy, 1947)
From the balcony in winter
it was this: the smell of burning
wood, smoke weaving
between the utterances and memories,
a scent I know like ember-warm
walls on my palms, my feet missing
stairs and filled with poignancy. On the way,
I forget time and what do we do
with what’s left? After the pipe-split
landing, the crowd’s cameras and roaring, how
can I admit to being seen pantless, my unmentionables
documented, prized? My family knows my one
leg, and I am not the girl in the picture—
she, naked, walks by herself.
Lilia Dobos is a current Graduate Teaching Assistant studying TESOL at Salisbury University. Her other publications include Barely South Review, New Mexico Review, The Quaker and forthcoming work in Red Flag Poetry.