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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