All bodies want to live—
Especially in crisis, they
fuel themselves for escape,
pushing down other victims
in their race towards exits,
forgetting nobility. To run
as you did, towards the
speeding truck, towards
the shooter, to ram against
his heavy purpose, clinging
to his door like a fly, was to
peck against evil like bird
tapping at a feeding crocodile.
He was concentrating
on me, you said, and in that
moment could not kill people.
And even now, having dared
so much, the only thing you
refuse to give is your name.
Devon Balwit is a teacher/poet from Portland, Oregon. She has two chapbooks: how the blessed travel (Maverick Duck Press) and Forms Most Marvelous (forthcoming with dancing girl press). Her work has found many homes, some of which are: The Cincinnati Review, The Stillwater Review, Sierra Nevada Review, Red Earth Review, Timberline Review, Poets Reading the News, The NewVerse News, The Ekphrastic Review.
A Quiet Courage 