Between StopsPosted: January 22, 2015
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
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