Return to Top of Page
Menu
  • Close
  • About Us
  • Past Issues
  • Contributors
  • Donate
  • Opportunities
  • Staff
  • Submissions
  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Instagram
  • Search Website
Literary Mama
  • Current Issue
  • Archives
  • Departments
  • Blog

Poetry | February 2008

The Trajectory of Her Legs

By Kristin Berger

The pedals have been slipping
under her booted will to turn corners,
stretch into longer and longer afternoons.
Not one notch, or two, but three
full clinks the top-tube lengthens,
the bike adjusted, for now,
to this lanky new girl-body.

Fingers are counted upon, words slip
from her lips like pigeons spiraling,
white-bellied notes above the wire.
I do nothing but hold
back. These growing pains
are like the stretch-marks I didn’t know
I would one day welcome,
a map to trace the moments
between coming, going
and soon-to-be gone.

Leave a Reply Cancel reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Share This Page

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Email
  • Copy Link

Kristin Berger

Learn More

Subscribe to Our Newsletter

Don't miss out on Literary Mama news and updates

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Instagram
  • Instagram
  • RSS

© 2022 Literary Mama | Search Site | About Us | Staff | Submissions | Privacy Policy