Hannah Silverstein

The Tricycle

The girl—maybe five,
maybe six years old,
band-aid elbow,
dirt-scrubbed knee—
who (her brother
calling her to race)
pauses her green
trike in the gravel
dust to wave
at the jumbo jet
miles and miles more
already away
from the outer arm
of this spiral galaxy
of washboard road
and woodlot track—
when will she forget
she is the sun?

Hannah Silverstein lives in Vermont, but her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Terroir Review, The Ekphrastic Review, SWWIM Every Day, and The New Guard.