The Motorcycle Queen
By Tyree Daye
For Bessie Stringfield
You said you took God with you to all 48 states.
You caroled your grief on an Indian Scout,
rode your Harley until the crowd forgot it was a motorcycle,
saw a stallion riding the track wall,
breaking for a field’s freedom.
You wanted a story you could tell
about surviving America on two wheels,
six years too early for the Green Book.
But I understand leaving.
I’ve been looking
to see the world.
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