Between Stops

a poem by Hudson Phillips about growing up in the Military.

I lurch from side to side carried forward

by the force that I have grasped,

Does it have a face?

I am bonded to the flow of strangers,

circuited to an energy

of destinations,

all drawn


hands placed

close enough to show the differences,

some tired and turgid, telling of their toil,

and others marked by manicured and selfish haste

Our motion settles into undulant sway

as tracks stretch out beyond the blurring

where we were

And soon the steady trekking lifts and lowers us together

so that, we adjust the knees into easy surfer’s bend,

riding free on the balls of our feet

We are for a moment in full knowledge of the other

but we dare not meet eye to eye.

Gravity pulls against our grip, while we dangle in our intimacy

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