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You are at:Home»MER VOX»Poetry»Christy Lee Barnes – Poetry

Christy Lee Barnes – Poetry

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By Mom Egg Review on March 14, 2023 Poetry

Christy Lee Barnes

I hear the sound that could have been a gunshot

 

but definitely wasn’t               so we keep walking.

            but could have been                                                    but wasn’t

You bounce ahead, oblivious             as you ought to be

and so, so happy.                    Hell-bent on checking

on your favorite water fountain          to find out

if they’ve fixed it yet.             Just a few steps

ahead of me.

                        but wasn’t                   but wasn’t 

but could have been                            What   use                   is instinct

once hijacked?                       What calm

from these forced breaths                    in and out,                  this counting

five things that ground me                  trying to slow my body?

My flexed hands, not

reaching for you          because there is no reason to.

but wasn’t                   but wasn’t                   but could have been

The fountain is still broken. You press the buttons anyway.

You head for the slide. A truck drives down

the park path, back hatch loose, metal

ricochets off metal.

but wasn’t                               but wasn’t

Your chubby hand in mine

up the steps to the double-slide          and down together,

but wasn’t        but could have been 

safe as anyone             has ever been.

 

Christy Lee Barnes is an educator originally from Los Angeles who now lives in Seattle with her husband and toddler son. Her writing can be found in Prairie Schooner, Plume, Cream City Review, Cagibi, Spillway, The Comstock Review, Tin House’s “Broadside Thirty,” The Seattle Times, McSweeney’s, and elsewhere.

 

 

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