Walking the Pulitzers (Mary Chind, 2010)
Blanketed under the same white
dam foam. He said it wasn’t a problem, that we could
avoid it. In this blunder, a breath
couldn’t be enough for the rough wavebreak,
the heavy bag I became against the river’s force.
It was the orange I held onto, above
my head, waiting. Thinking that this is
the color I will die remembering, the cold
imprinted on my skin. Forgetting
the warnings, and we shouldn’t go that way, and what
should we eat for dinner? A voice seeps
through the breaking, reaching. A grasp
and a breath I couldn’t take
amidst all the rumbling.
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.