kristin lueke / poem

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October, Philadelphia

watching the world from where i am, i am togethered 

by the sight of it, mass of breathing bodies waving 

in the streets of pennsylvania, sharing watermelon, defiant 

& gorgeous. god of all gods, now a woman grips a key, 

believing. she is days ago & i am here, watching

chicago, london, even orlando. i watch in the park 

where the kneeling pray, held in by woven arms— 

how joy moves in murmurations. fall jays flocking 

stay attentive, each one, to the seven at its side. 

you learn to live this way. a girl an age i was once 

sits high above the crowd. i understand her hair 

& wish her every braid. she is on a man’s shoulders, 

the man is broad. he has a daughter. he is holding 

both her hands—what she must know by now 

to be here. how summer fruit survives.

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Kristin Lueke is a Chicana poet living in northern New Mexico. She is the author of the chapbook (in)different math (Dancing Girl Press). Her work's appeared in Sixth Finch, Wildness, HAD, Maudlin House, Frozen Sea, and elsewhere. She writes at theanimaleats.com.