It isn’t long before sunlight trickles in,
glass-orbed particles bouncing,
percolating like stars in rain.
My boots crunch rock in wet-strewn
pavement, Ireland green marrying
sky-ocean blue. I remember,
it wasn’t so long ago, that we collected
ourselves, stood up on bike pedals and
decided not to be afraid. After all,
wet streets were no danger, cars zooming
around us, we foreigners on the
left-right side of the road. Adventure
isn’t hard to find when fear is not
wrestled to the ground but held, a
fragile bird longing to be given
permission to fly. And so I stay
released, remembering our hands
gripping handles, ice-April air cutting
through cloth: the flock of us,
heads up, wings outstretched, willing
to continue if only to see the next
turn in the road.

-jennifer j. camp