Shady greenway the next county over
twelve miles a quick leg-stretcher
then some rest on a hot metal bench
two elderly women emerged
from the nearby subdivision
and without greetings sat down
on either side of me
and continued to not speak
they wore saris and white Hokas
I expect both laughed
at me afterwards sweaty doofus
helmet on in all that heat
still I felt admitted to their lives
to be a small part of things as I did
when my father brought me along
on visits to his childless best friend
they drank beer and did shots
played cribbage on the picnic table
oblivious to my presence
while I read about Project Gemini
how two men lived together in orbit
home after the bike ride
I tried to recall the word
for the reddish marks on their foreheads
from there learned that pigment
for the bindi is traditionally made
by grinding toxic cinnabar
that the more one works it into vermilion
the lovelier and more poisonous
its color becomes
Recently retired after a 40-year career focused on the conservation of wildlands and wildlife, Mark MacAllister manages to write every day while remaining an active member of his local emergency response team, of a red wolf conservation organization and of a Wisconsin-based writers’ cooperative. His poems are published in a variety of journals, and his chapbook, Quiet Men And Their Coyotes, is available from Concrete Wolf Press. Mark now lives in North Carolina but travels often to the Wisconsin Northwoods and to Michigan’s Upper Peninsula to hike and bike the backcountry.