Growing Up Without Wings

her mother told her

fear any man
whose voice
grows louder in the dark
he is not the one
to marry

but if
for too many days
the brown of his eyes remind you
of a forest
to hide in

if saying yes ever seems
not only
the easiest
but
the only path

then keep your voice down
on the phone

learn to keep quiet secrets

also
keep a few dollars
hidden
maybe wrapped in an old sweater’s wool warmth
maybe in an empty makeup case
places a man will never search
will never think to

keep at least
one friend
from before your marriage
who knows you
by your scraped knee stories
by the deep chest sounds of your laugh
this friend will be
an island
in a river that changes course

more than all this
remember
even if you pray and pray nightly
with full belief and unfisted heart
prayer only works

back to issue

Mike James is the associate editor of The Kentucky Review. He has had recent poems published in 5 AM, Old Red Kimono, and Town Center Poetry. New work is forthcoming in Comstock Review, Iodine, and Philadelphia Poets. His most recent book, Past Due Notices: Poems 1991-2011, was published last year by Main Street Rag. His latest book, Elegy in Reverse, was published earlier this year by Aldrich Press.