“I bear the awful lightness of her small body, her pale straight nape …”
Presenting a poem from our debut issue, “Dangerous Territory.” To enjoy and print this piece as a broadside, simply drag it to your desktop. Or you can scroll down to read it in plain text.
13 MONTHS
She is strapped to me
and we chant in rhythm
with my steps as we walk.
On a windy day we swing
our arms out to feel it,
and she laughs and calls
her sound for wind. Her fine
hair flutters. Huge cars speed
past tossing red leaves. I carry
an umbrella to keep off the sun.
There is no greater weight
than hers. It grows each day
as I lift her accumulating life.
When I think ahead to the sound
of her voice at five, the sift
of red hair on her cheek at seven,
her curved waist at fifteen,
my arm trembles beneath her.
Those children fade into dust
beneath my galloping terror.
I wear the sharp bridle
of the present, look only
at the lithe grass of her smile.
I bear the awful lightness
of her small body, her pale
straight nape, her hands
cut by sunlight, turning
and turning a blue wooden wheel.
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Lea Marshall, Associate Chair of the dance department at Virginia Commonwealth University’s School of the Arts, meshes her creativity in the fields of both dance and creative writing. With a BA in English from the University of Virginia and an MFA in Creative Writing – Poetry from VCU, Marshall’s writing has appeared in Thrush, Unsplendid, Delware Poetry Review, and a myriad of other literary publications. Along with her career in dance and arts administration, Marshall is also a freelance writer for Dance Magazine, Dance Teacher, Pointe, and is a dance critic for Richmond-based arts and culture publication Style Weekly. Marshall is a two-time contributor to Broad Street, featured in both “Dangerous Territory” and “Bedeviled.”
“13 Months” debuted in our “Dangerous Territory” issue. Read an interview with Lea about poetry, dance, and the fine art of telling the truth here.
True stories, honestly.
