Sunday, January 28, 2018

Gymnast Eyes, Doctor's Hands

I always thought
Seeing the graceful and strong beauty
Of American gymnasts
The red, white, and blue
Blurring as their bodies cut through space
And showed what the human form is capable of
There was sadness in those women's eyes

I thought
Maybe they regretted losing childhood
To trainings and competitions
Putting aside romance, family, children
For gold, silver, and bronze
Putting their body through trials
That stopped their flow of life-giving blood

It was not sadness
In those gymnasts' eyes
Who gave all willingly for the prize
It was fear
Disgust and loathing
Black anger
At a pestilent doctor's hands