8
Daniel Sokoloff:
Fade
There is no uncertainty
every choice I ever made
brought me here;
I lean against the rotted railing,
and listen to the birds sing,
clearing my mind.
When I was a little boy,
we used to throw bread to the ducks
hoping God would understand
we were throwing our sins away.
I was scared back then.
Quiet here,
naught but the bridge, the river,
and myself.
I was a patriot once,
now my valor is my own.
The heartbreak and resentments,
once I wore them so proudly,
black nail polish, thick red boots,
greasy hair, scarred arms,
these can no longer drag me down.
I tie the rope,
secure in my faith
that the rail will hold.
Last night I drank
and when I slept,
I dreamt of a moonlit balcony;
Idris Elba was singing Die Walkyrie,
his voice a deep, mournful bass,
a kingly monody that haunted me even when I awoke.
I think of it now as my throat constricts.
The birds strut and sing to one another,
Illustration by Chelsi Rossi
Instagram: @_chiles