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Where it started is the same

by Jo-Anne Cappeluti


over 50 years after

as it was when I was 13

standing in front of a cemetery

seeing it was getting dark

straddling my bicycle, ready to leave

when a man on a motorcycle

hit from behind

flew through the air


and landed looking up at me


and I saw him alive in his eyes

and then there was

just his body left


and after I watched it carried away


I wondered where the rest of him went

the part that had looked through his eyes at me

but all I could see

was myself riding home

looking down at my feet


miles beneath

where I left my body behind—