by Eric Lochridge

Wild Horse Island
Our summer road trip ended in Lakeside at dusk,
thunderstorm roiling the water. Gray lake agitated,
Grandpa’s boats bobbed like ice cubes
at the docks. The glare of the dying
day raged in my stepmother’s eyes.
Her wrath struck like lightning
that always found my body—half-moon marks
on my wrist, archipelago of bruises
across my thigh.
Dad scurried inside with her bags.
My siblings and stepsiblings ran
the wooden slats past the boats’
pitching masts. I wandered down to the water’s edge
and wet my feet to the hems of my pants.
My gaze floated over the whitecapped churn
to the island where untamed mustangs once found sanctuary
grazing sweetgrass and clover, tails swatting at flies,
their dark manes ladders to be climbed.
The hairs on my neck stood on end. Like a shock
blown over my father’s eyes,
black clouds swept the horizon.
Poet Eric Lochridge (he/him) is the author of My Breath Floats Away From Me (FutureCycle Press, 2022). A graduate of the Rainier Writing Workshop, he serves as an associate poetry editor forOkay Donkey magazine. His poems appear in DIAGRAM, Slipstream, Freshwater Review, Psaltery and Lyre, and other literary journals. Find more of his work on his website: http://ericedits.wordpress.com/ and follow him on Instagram @elochridge.
Artist Teresa Blake’s (she/her) work is currently on display at Gallery 120 in Clover, SC and A Photographer’s Place in Raleigh, NC. She also serves on the board of Gallery 120. She is currently working on a commissioned public art installation for the City of Clover and recently won an “Honorable Mention” award from Ten Moir Gallery for her cityscape, Istanbul. Find more of her work on her website: http://www.artpal.com/blakeinlakewylie.
